Study in Contradiction

Used to Know

2012-02-01T16:08:00.000-05:00

Driving down the road on an unseasonably warm winter day I hear snippets and melodies of what we used to beI feel chilled and pull on a coat of sadness and the scarf of shame thinking on how things have failed between us
I light a cigarette of anger and flick the violent ash of revenge and remorse out the window wondering what you are doing now

I feel I couldn't even begin to guess right
Because you're just someone I used to know

Telling light hearted stories I hear myself adjusting the tense of us from current to former
I play the tears of sorrow off as uncontrolled glee at the remembrance of our silliness, because it's been too long to still acceptably be so damn sorrowful over missing you

Churning like the snow that hasn't fallen this winter my heart flips back and forth between desperately wishing to have you back and feeling relief that the miles separating us match the miles apart our hearts have grown

I watch people passing me by in stores and find myself wondering what would happen should we meet again. I fear that you will simply treat me as a stranger. Measuring the kindness doled out to me against that you would give anyone else and pretending we were never more to each other than ships passing in the night

My heart still burns wishing I could return to that afternoon in the fading light. So scared and confused wondering how this person I loved so fiercely transformed into someone I used to know

Dried Up

2012-01-12T01:00:00.002-05:00

Sometimes it feels like all of my words have dried up
As if over time they slowly evaporated leaving nothing but that scummy film behind

There are still good things, great things
There are still friends, laughter, sorrow and contentment

But I've lost my words
More and more through this season (gosh, I've come to hate the term season) I'm finding that my words have been removed

I didn't misplace them, I didn't leave them at a restaurant or some one's house. I find that my words have been almost surgically removed

The funny thing about God sometimes is that when he asks you to do something he really means it. He means to have you rest when he asks you to rest. He means to have you be quiet when he asks you to be quiet. He means you to be still when he asks you to be still.

I find myself sitting alone with God and opening my mouth to pray. But all the words are gone. People ask me how I am, how I'm doing, what's new, what my plans are and I open my mouth like a fish out of water. My mouth just opens and shuts and nothing comes out.

I find myself shut down. Not in the "I'm taking my ball and going home" sort of way but in the action, task oriented sort of way.

I don't know when it will end or what it will be like. But I'm almost starting to believe that I can be loved just because I breathe; that I can be liked even when I'm disagreeable and that even when I do nothing I still have value because I am a daughter of the King.

If losing my words for awhile results in finally truly believing that my value is in Christ alone; I'm ok with that.

Book List

2011-12-30T01:16:00.041-05:00

Rather than review every book as I read them, which I found quite mundane (I'm...not a reviewer). I thought I'd list out the books I read with links and a general good, great, couldn't put it down, or couldn't finish it.

Here's the books I read in 2011:

1- Vanishing and Other Stories: Loved the first handful of stories than petered out and couldn't finish. But they were all kind of depressing stories and I was kind of depressed which wasn't a good combination. Mix between good and couldn't finish it.

2- Every Last One: Loved it. Couldn't put it down. Which was unfortunate last one night when I realized I had just read about a home invasion and triple homicide right before I was supposed to lay down and go to sleep.

3- Blessings: Loved it. Couldn't put it down and couldn't quite figure out what what going to happen when.

4- The Improper Life of Bezelia Grove: As soon as I read about this one over at The Lost Entwife I knew that like her it was a book for me. Hellllo improper life! It was amazing. I couldn't put it down and read it in two days. So amazing.

5- Putting Away Childish Things- I thought it was a good book. It was a bit academic in it's discussion of faith, but it was a discussion of faith in an academic setting so I wouldn't really have expected less.

6- Girl In Translation - Very good. Inspiring story of a girl growing up straddling the old world and the new world.

7- Room - AMAZING. Could not put it down.

8- Where the God of Love Hangs Out - Only ok. Compilation of short stories, some of which were actually small novellas.

9- Unbearable Lightness - Very good, read 1/2 of it one day and finished it the next

10- Autobiography of Mark Twain Volume 1 -I wanted to like this, I really really did. Since he had put a ban on publishing it for 100 years after his death I thought there would be salacious things in it. It read more like a land survey and political meet and greet. It might have gotten better, but it was a brick of a book and I only made it a few hundred pages in.

11- Black Heels to Tractor Wheels - Couldn't put it down. So swoony and lovely

12- The Distant Hours - So juicily suspenseful and a little creepy. LOVE Kate Morton and am sad that I have finished her last book (there are only 3). READ these books. They are AMAZING.

13- The Weight of Silence - Amazing. Couldn't put it down and read it late in the night and at stoplights

14- These Things Hidden - Same author as #13, also couldn't put it down and gasped audibly at one point (or 4)

15. Little Bird of Heaven -Good, I read it while reading 3 other non-fictions books so it took a bit to get through it but it was worth it by the end

16. Don't Breathe a Word - Couldn't put it down. I read it in about 6 hours straight with a break for making pasta salad for a cookout. Deliciously creepy, I had to finish it in one sitting because I needed to find the logical ending to make sure the creepy other worldly stuff didn't keep me up tonight.

17. Place of Yes -I have a ~~massive~~ slight obsession with Bethenny Frankel. So I bought this book because it was about her and her journey and I loved it. Not everything was my bag, but that's ok, I still think she's amazeballs

18- Alice, I Have Been - SO GOOD. I read it in a weekend. So juicy and historically swoony

19- The Help - I really didn't want to like this book because it was so popular..but I really really loved it and couldn't put it down for the most part. I also talked like domestic help in rural 60's Mississippi which was fun for Pete.

20- The Art of Forgetting- I stayed up way to late reading this book, like 2am when I had to be up at 6am book. Interesting story involving the dynamics of when the more dominant friend changes because of traumatic brain injury. Very..coming into her own story from the point of view of the more submissive friend

21- Heaven- Ok, I know they're garbage. I just got a wild hair to read the series again. So I did.

22- Dark Angel - 2nd in the Heaven series. The more I read them the more appalled I am that I read them before I was even a teenager. But now, they're just campy fun.

23- Fallen Hearts- 3rd in the Heaven series, again...so appalled that I read them so young but can't put them down...again

24- Gates of Paradise- 4th in the Heaven series

25- Web of Dreams- 5th and final installment of the Casteel family drama

25- Last Letter from Your Lover - Very good, a little confusing with all the flashbacks but it all sorted out deliciously.

26 - If I Stay - This and book 27 ago together. So good and compelling.

27- Where She Went - Quick read, but still very compelling and good. Reminder of all the collateral damage that trauma to people you love but aren't technically your "family" can cause and how hard it is to recover from all the fractures.

28- Once Was Lost - Very compelling and I didn't guess who did it which is a big plus

29- Sisters in Sanity - So good, the same author of books 26 & 27

30- The Legacy - Creepily good and a nice twist at the end

Poisoned Fruit

2011-12-02T04:33:00.025-05:00

I've been watching a lot of Law & Order lately. When they get to the courtroom scenes there is often a battle over what evidence should be admitted in the trial. If one big piece is omitted then it can have a domino effect on a lot of other smaller pieces of evidence.

Fruit of the poisonous tree is what they call that evidence.

That's how life feels lately.

Every broken relationship
Every cutting comment
Every knock down drag out fight
Every shaming scoff

Fruit of the poisonous tree.

The generational sin and brokenness that feels like poison seething through my veins so I want to rip the roots out of my familiy tree and plant it in less fallow ground.

I feel panicked wondering how I can change my own behaviors and attitudes to help change the tide of bitterness, anger and snark that rears its hideous head.

I feel afraid, wounded and damaged. Wishing I could strike back like a snake. Teaching lessons and hurting those that hurt me, shame me and others. Putting a stop to those who belittle and dimiss others. I wish I could shout loud enough to make their eyes open to the damage their indifference and cruelty is causing.

But I can't. I don't have a pretty bow to wrap this all up. All I know is that I am called to be gracious and loving to everyone; even when I feel like they don't deserve it anymore.

The tension for me is in setting boudaries and keeping them while at the same time being gracious and kind.
Loving the best I can the people in our family even when they behave so unloveable.

Good Things: November

2011-12-01T04:22:00.001-05:00

I started late this month, and now I can't remember a good thing for the first 3 days. Whoops!

November 4 Breakfast at work, yum!

November 5 Puss and Boots with Matthew. It was super funny

November 6 Extra hour of sleep!

November 7 Small group time is awesome time. This one time at Meijer...

November 8 Election Day, the day I celebrate the end of hearing about all those electiony things

November 9 Happy Birthday, Katy! I love you!

November 10 Family Night

November 11 Mom and Dad came into town and saw the new kitchen!

November 12 WICKED! LOVE!

November 13 Unexpected Sunday afternoon to myself. I was deliciously unproductive. Extra time with my church peeps too, love them.

November 14 Amber came over to play! Snarky HP watching!

November 15 Therapy is hard, but it's nice being able to share and be validated without emotional blackmail ensuing

November 16 I may never tire of playing Dr. Mario

November 17 Dr. Mario is a game you can play which allows you to not think about anything else

November 18 Friday! It's FRIDAY! I'm so over work right now

November 19 Hair appointment, lunch with a friend and J Edgar movie

November 20 Helping Sharen decorate for Christmas and dinner with friends

November 21 Love my small group. TWINKIES!

November 22 5pm eventually showed up at work, which made me very happy

November 23 Peaceful drive up to my parents house with Sharen, Shelby and Matthew

November 24 Yummy Thanksgiving and Black Friday shopping started at 930 and there were some ridiculous laughs in the Elder-Beerman parking lot

November 25 Continued Black Friday shopping until past 4am. A lot of fun!

November 26 Saw the Muppets and laughed a lot

November 27 Sleeping in my own bed!

November 28 Signed up for Pinterest, this may be the beginning of the end

November 29 Entertaining, if useless 4 hour meeting at work where an 80ish year old man talked about his blog more times than required.

November 30 Straight home from work!

Good Things: October

2011-11-01T01:40:00.010-04:00

October 1- Fun morning hanging with Laine before heading home. Sleeping in my own bed!

October 2- Kirsten was baptized!

October 3- Dr. Mario after work

October 4- Came home sick from work, slept on the sofa and watched tv all day

October 5- Stayed home sick from work, slept and had fever dreams all day. It was....interesting

October 6- Still sick, this cold just won't quit.

October 7- Worked all day on about 3 hours of sleep, I was highly entertaining

October 8- Beauty and the Beast at the Aranoff

October 9- Lots more time on the sofa today, Dr. Mario and Netflix for the win!

October 10- Columbus Day means slow day at work, after almost 2 weeks off and non-functional this girl really needed that

October 11- Good therapy

October 12- Dr. Mario and one of the last meals in my counterless kitchen

October 13- Family Night for the first time in a long time

October 14- Started dogsitting, picked all the movies to watch this weekend on their movie channels

October 15- Movies all day long!

October 16- Beautiful day, lovely lunch with Claire and hanging at the dog park watching cute pups

October 17- Boss' Day at work was a lot of fun

October 18- Girlfriends Night Out!

October 19- The counters were installed!

October 20- Last night of dogsitting

October 21- Lovely night spent organizing the kitchen

October 22- Matthew's special day! He said as he was falling asleep he wished the day was just starting instead of ending. So adorable

October 23- Pete's home! Burgers at Amber's with much giggling!

October 24- Meal planning to cook in the new kitchen

October 25- Grocery shopping and running water/working dishwasher in the kitchen

October 26- Loooong day at work, but wine and still warm dinner when I got home thanks to ~~my fifties housewife~~ Pete

October 27- Family night telling remember when stories with the kids and playing dueling fart noises

October 28 - Clean sheet night!

October 29- Amber's Halloween Party! I was the bearded lady

October 30- Meatloaf balls!

October 31- Trick or Treating with Sharen, Matthew, Pete nd Doug

Home

2011-10-25T13:30:00.000-04:00

My throat has dried up.I've been paralyzed by what to say, overcome again and again by the fear of rejection, the fear of abandonment.
Working through intimacy issues steadfastly ignored for at least 20 years if not the full 32 is scary. Scary because I have to try to re-build my belief that I am valuable because I am a child of God. Even if I did nothing else ever for the rest of my life I would have value simply because God made me.

Because I don't believe it. I doubt it so greatly that I've convinced myself (along with a substantial amount of help from others) that it's true.

I feel dry. So dry and sapped and strung out on fear and paranoia I can't see the top of the hole I've dug for myself to hide in.

But through it all I hear God whispering that he won't leave. If I can be frank, and it's my blog so I think I will be, I don't believe him yet.
With every relationship I seem to have long lapses of times where I hold my breath waiting for them to figure out that I'm no good. That I'm garbage to be thrown away when I'm no longer entertaining or useful.
Because that's who I see when I look in the mirror.

Garbage.
Useless.
Not good.

But that God is persistent. Even as I turn my face from him, even as I shout at him that he made a mistake when he made me because I'm NO GOOD he just stays put, stubbornly.

I stopped leading. The transition has been better and more terrible than I anticipated. Better because I have had my pastors clearly express to me they care for me no matter what. Better because I have experienced them allowing me to exit and go quiet because they want to help me honor God in truly resting and refreshing in this time. Terrible because I secretly wonder if they're relieved the be done with me. Terrible because I feel useless and therefore I'm not worth anything if I'm not doing doing doing.
Let me be clear that most days I know it's not true.
Most days I can inhale without choking and exhale without sobbing.
It's the some days that pour shadows over the sun and I wonder if I'll ever again believe these lovely people and this mighty God love me.

But I'm starting to feel the inkling of belief. The echo of a memory of the deep down knowing that God is here. He's here and he's not leaving and he's sticking around no matter what. It feels so strange.

But it also feels like home.

seeing myself sitting against the wall of the cavern with my tired head laying atop my arms slung over my knees and realizing it’s where i am and where i’ve been for a while, i found i wasn’t alone. seeing this in my mind’s eye for the first time, jesus sat with his arm around me. ‘we can stay here as long as you need to, mary kathryn,’ i heard in my heart. ‘and i will stay here with you. but i will not let you stay here forever.'

(Inspired by: Bottom-Dwellers)

but anger is the mask fear wears until it either becomes a monster of hate or a puddle of clay which only christ can mold and fix and change in his own image. (via)

Being There

2011-10-04T01:29:00.000-04:00

I got back this weekend from about a week with a friend. One I've had for just about 20 years.
Over the last 20 years we're lived both near and far from each other many times over. We've spoken every day and not at all for months at a time. We've gone through life changes both by choice and by nature; both hard, difficult and messy as well as lovely, celebratory and easy to navigate.
In 20 years we've been there.

I was thinking during our time together this week that it's not easy, maintaining a friendship. As evidenced over this past year God has been stripping, re-making and molding my relationships, specifically those with other adult women.
It has honestly stunk.
I've lost friends, or at least been downgraded to mere acquaintance and made several new friends that I am so thankful to have in my life now.

This is the first time I've really spent any real time with Laine since the last (and biggest) change in his life. I told him over lunch one day that I was nervous. Because I didn't want to say the wrong thing or offend him or his friends with my inexperience with this latest life change. I didn't have any experiences to compare going through this change to, it's outside any realm of comprehension that I could imagine. So I'm just trying to love him well and figure out what that looks like as I go, which isn't always perfect or correct.

I'm just being there. I'm showing up even when it's awkward or uncomfortable, I'm showing up when it's easy and fun and when it's hard and humbling.

Because it's all I know how to do, and somehow that has been enough for us the last 20 years.

Good Things: September

2011-10-03T02:48:00.020-04:00

September 1 Nice meeting dreaming about outreach with leaders at my church

September 2 12 hour day at work, looooooong day but getting a little caught up

September 3 Lazy day swimming and watching Netflix

September 4 Great conversation with Claire at lunch and Friday Night Lights

September 5 Day on the sofa with brief breaks to switch laundry

September 6 Day 1 of 2 that I'm working this week

September 7 Road Trip to South Carolina with some church peeps. I love my church, I really really do

September 8 Man oh man, today. The whole conference and everything the speakers spoke about, the road trip back plumbing the depths of my ipod and listening to kingdom dreams being chatted about while watching scenery slip past. Today was my favorite in a long time, awake for 23 hours and loved every second.

September 9 Day 2 of 2 that I'm working this week. I'm not even tired, LOVE that.

September 10 Building bookcases and the Washington Project cookout

September 11 Afternoon on the sofa watching Netflix

September 12 Watched an SUV stuck on a boulder (yep, a boulder) get unstuck by a deaf former UFC guy yanking on it with a tow strap (the truck was jacked up so it wouldn't fall on dude). His fist pump after was the best part

September 13 Texts with Laine planning our friend-cation!

September 14 The kitchen table went up! It's starting to feel like a real house!

September 15 Happy Birthday, Matthew!

September 16 First night dog sitting in a long time, almost made me miss cable (almost)

September 17 Matthew's birthday part, lots of loud kids and some yummy cake

September 18 Downloaded Dr. Mario on the Wii...productivity has ground to a halt in the house again

September 19 Bought my counter tops today. My bank account doesn't think it's a good thing but my kitchen does

September 20 Girlfriends Night Out! There was an odd amount of talk on the topic of booger eating...

September 21 Dr. Mario and hanging out on the sofa all night

September 22 Dinner out celebrating a friends birthday. Lots of laughing and hilarity ensued.

September 23 Last day of work until October!

September 24 Game night with Amber and got my hair did.

September 25 Good conversation about churchy volunteer stuff. It was nice to be care for in such a way.

September 26 Driving to Pennsylvania and seeing Laine!

September 27 Lots and lots of vagina jokes today, none of which I was comfortable putting on the interwebs

September 28 Had a cider slush....oh my goodness, SO AMAZING

September 29 I may have been drunk twice today, I can't confirm or deny this

September 30 Benefit show with Laine, he did a great job at his show. Chacha McDouchenstein

The In Between

2011-09-20T05:21:00.001-04:00

Rescued-

1. Save (someone) from a dangerous or distressing situation.

2. Keep from being lost or abandoned; retrieve

Redeemed-
1.a: to buy back : repurchase b : to get or win back.
2. a: to free from what distresses or harms: b: to free from captivity by payment of ransom

I read "I prayed to be rescued, not redeemed" today while on my lunch break. I was breaking in a new book and my breath caught. Because that's sort of where I am. Praying to be plucked out of the danger and distress and placed in a new, exciting and much more clearly defined life. Praying to be back to normal, even though I was never a huge fan of the normal when I lived there.
I'm scared to be shaped. I'm scared of redemption because in my secret put away hear I don't believe that I'm valuable enough to be bought, let alone bought back. I'm scared of the waiting, of the silent in between times full of turmoil and refining.

Yet, I find myself in the in between anyway. Despite all of my protests and tantrums here I am, in between. Some much needed rest and intentional withdrawal is here and it's time I start making as much of this in between as I can, stop throwing the tantrums and actually listen to the whispering voice telling me that He sets my value. That He has already redeemed me

If I'm honest, I prayed the way you order breakfast from a short-order cook: this is what I want. Period. This is what I want. Aren't you getting this? I didn't pray for God's will to be done in my life, or, at any rate, I didn't mean it. I prayed to be rescued, not redeemed. I prayed for it to get easier, not that I would be shaped in significant ways. I prayed for the waiting to be over, instead of trying to learn something about patience or anything else for that matter.

-Shauna Niequist Bittersweet

You Arrived

2011-09-19T01:45:00.000-04:00

With great ceremony and a ridiculous dash of pomp I explained what friendships had done to me. I cataloged the phone call in the dorm lobby and the flying angry batons. I recounted the attempts at reconciliation and the sad and desperate pop of that reconciliation failing. I told you how I had decided that I had all the friends I needed and I was done for the rest of my life.
But then there was you.
With pop ins and laughing until we cried; you arrived.
We fought each others battles and said completely ridiculous things, quietly just in case.

By just being you, a lot of messes and cuts in my heart were healed and soothed in a way I'm not sure would have happened without you. For that alone I am forever grateful.

I've been reading blogs and articles on friendships ending because I can't seem to find the words to describe it without making it sound like we were something more than friends. Because to others, and I suspect even to you, friendship just isn't as important of a relationship. It isn't something to be celebrated when found or grieved when lost. But to me, this is grief.

That's what this is, right? This chasm that has opened between us either by your lack of showing up or by my inability to let the hurt and disappointment go for months and months is the end of friendship.

If you had been a parent, a spouse or a child, or someone that had died it would be different. It would be understandable, this grief. But as it is now, I can't even understand this void that has entered my life. This void where you used to live. How can I expect others too?

I'm working on holding on to the good. On to the silly and serious and the soothing; without trying to decipher the silence and emptiness.
Because I am forever grateful for the friend I had, I love you and miss you while at the same time wondering where exactly we went and when it happened.

(inspired by: Dear Laura)

Five Minutes: Caring

2011-09-16T08:22:00.000-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

The other day I had lunch with a friend. After a seemingly benign question I started pouring out a bunch of things that had been discussed the previous night in therapy. I don't mind that I told him, but I just wasn't planning to tell him.
We bantered back and forth for awhile while I steadfastly avoided eye contact and fidgeted.

Then on the way back from lunch he cleared his throat and said, "You know...if uh....you ever need to talk about us or anything...if you uh think it would help, we can do that..."
I smiled and said, "I think I'll be ok, but thank you for the offer"

Because the offer is really all I needed. Just to be acknowledged and reached out to was enough. It made me smile the rest of the day that he would say something that I would have never expected him to say and make an offer I'm guessing he was nervous I'd actually take him up on, but being willing to make the offer nonetheless.

I've felt the loss of friendship a lot this week and have been fighting the anchor that keeps trying to wrap itself around my heart again. But in this single stammering sentence my heart was lifted and encouraged that even when I withdrawal and try to collapse inward there are still friends that will do hard things, reaching in to help me stand again.

Done.

I remember

2011-09-15T01:27:00.001-04:00

I remember the feeling of you more than you. I remember you mostly through stories re-told to me for years and decades of my life.
I have a picture of you, at graduation, smiling down at whoever was taking the picture and I wonder about you. I wonder what would have been different had you stayed longer.

I remember a feeling of you under my knees and poking hands as I clambered up and up and up until I could reach your face to pat it softly on the side.

I remember a room, with a bed in it, with brown carpets and heavy wooden furniture. I remember the hose
itching my legs and the lace itching my neck and wrists.

I remember a long ceremony and a new lady that I liked well enough.

I remember in snippets and breaths of feelings and flashes. I remember in the breathing in and realizing I'm smelling a scent that really belongs to you.

I remember a room filled with strangers and how it was the first time I recall disliking the smell of flowers when there was a big box in the room with them and tears falling on my head.

I remember wondering, why you weren't around anymore and trying to figure out where you went. I remember knowing that asking wasn't an option. Because even that small I remember feeling shamed by my questions and inability to understand things way beyond my maturity.

I remember your room with the wall of books. I remember wanting a wall of books in a heavy wooden case just like yours. I remember looking out your window and wondering what you thought when you looked out them.

I remember you more in feelings than fact; in disjointed flashes and shared stories from mostly people that I can no longer trust to tell me truths about anything.

Want

2011-09-14T01:17:00.003-04:00

I want you to be here.
But more than that I want you to want to be here.

And you're just not.
Just like that.

In an end that should have been an explosion there was only a whimper and a small puff of air.
I find myself looking around, wondering where you are.
I pick up my phone to call and text, but am resigned to not hearing back and not even really knowing what I want to say short of what's up.

So what's up?
What's new?
How are you?

Maybe in these these short fragments of conversations we can find a way.
Maybe these short fragments are all that's left and there is nothing more.

Either way, I want you to be here....I want you to want to be here.

Conform

2011-09-13T02:39:00.002-04:00

Often, without even meaning to do it, I do it.
When meeting someone new, that I don't even know or think is cute or anything, I'll conform myself subconsciously into what I perceive they might want me to be at that particular time.

What do you think is funny?
I'll crack a joke that matches

What music do you like?
I likely have it on my ipod and will play it (and sing along) for you

Do you prefer hair up or down?
I'll wear it accordingly

I really dislike this about myself. I am struggling with identity and finding it in the appropriate and rightful place, with God.
Yet my position of default is to twist and turn and conform myself to the perception I have of what pleases others.

I'm working on it, day by day, minute by minute, second my second.

Possession

2011-09-12T02:58:00.000-04:00

When someone touches me it feels like they're trying to take possession of me.
I don't like it. Even the most platonic and non-sexual touch makes me cringe. It takes months or even years of time spent for me to feel comfortable with touch.

I know it comes from a lot of things.
That damn back room and the way she would rest her age spotted hand on my shoulder when whispering how rotten I was, the pinching tightness of her only slightly younger age spotted hands gripping my upper arm hissing at me the things to say to never have to go home again.
The way the only touch I ever felt comforted under was hidden in secrecy of too young and too soon. The way even that touch would disintegrate with the stunning rapidity of shifting teen allegiances.
The way I knew I could use touch to change a topic or divert attention from a searching glance or reassure myself that you cared enough to spend the night.

So now these many years later touch has become bad. All touch. I have to really believe that you won't hurt me to allow touch, and I don't really believe that a lot of people won't hurt me.

Even with dear friends, the closer geographically they get, the less we touch. Long weekend are punctuated by obligatory hugs but I hate to linger. It feels like a trap. Like I won't be able to escape (these dear people that I otherwise have no desire to escape).

I had a friend once, and believe me when I say we were really just friends. We would go walking in benign places and hold hands just for the comfort of having another anchor in the world. There was poking and arms casually slung around shoulders, soft touches to the back or face just to say, "I'm still here. This is still solid ground."
I miss that friend. Because life shifted as it will and it's no longer appropriate for us to comfort each other, even platonically, that way. His wife would probably mind, which is completely appropriate and understandable.

But outside of the desperate and often manipulative context of teenage sexuality I cannot recall any other person or relationship that contained such an ease of touch. Nothing sexual, nothing inappropriate, just one person saying to another that they were there.
It's the last time I didn't feel that constricting need to flee at even the slightest touch.

FIve Minutes: Beauty

2011-09-09T01:08:00.004-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

My upstairs is all painted. Crisp and fresh colors. Granny Apple Green and Mermaid Treasure (teal-ish). Things are slowly going back in the right place and as a result everything is being cleaned up.
It's beautiful.

Because I think clean is beautiful, but I hate the act of cleaning up.

The same is true inside of me.
I want to clean up and out the junk that I've been carrying around for so long. Throw it out, bury it in the garbage and never look at it again.

I think that clean would be more beautiful on me, if I can only get up the courage and energy to clean.

Done.

Currency

2011-09-08T02:51:00.019-04:00

I spend a lot of time thinking about my currency. What is it I have that makes ma valuable to others? Is it really true or is it something I perceive to be my value?

The information I hold
The access to others
The entertainment value I contribute to a conversation

It's all very pathetic to me; this wondering about my value.

I noticed recently that the only contact I have with someone is when they ask about someone else. Unless we are in the same room for an extended period of time our conversation is usually restricted to only being about this other person (or specific group of people this person is in).
As if without the access or window into this other person there is little left to discuss. There is little to no (or only superficial) interest in anything about me without this other person.

I know I could probably try more, I know I could probably reveal any number of things about myself that would incite a topic of conversation about someone else or my life.

The thing is, I have.

But only a few minutes can pass before the conversation naturally or unnaturally turns back to this other person who holds what seems like a higher or more important place than I.

It feels selfish. It feels selfish to me, so I imagine it will likely sound selfish to others. If I bring it up I will be "oh no, it's not like that at all'd" away.
So I don't bring it up.
Rather I haven't brought it up.

I can feel my resignation dwindling. I can feel the words gurgling about in my throat ready to take the risk in asking, "what about me?"

I'm terrified of the answer. But some questions need answered either way.

Denial, not just a river in Egypt

2011-09-07T01:28:00.004-04:00

Denial can also be experienced on more subtle levels when it comes to our hearts and emotions. Sometimes we can deny that someone’s actions and words have hurt us. We can deny that someone’s decisions have affected us greatly, and have created pain.

So how does denial play out?
When it comes to being wounded by another’s words or actions, we can blame ourselves first; we can let them off the hook without accountability for the wound. When we deny ourselves, we downplay the pain or make the offense our fault. For instance, if someone hurts me, I might say I deserved to be treated like that or spoken to in that way. I could also justify their actions by not communicating that they hurt me.

Another sign of denial is forgiving too quickly. If someone hurts me, I could say, “Oh I forgive you, that’s no problem,” and move right past the hurt. There are times where the offense may be forgiven quickly, but in other instances, the wound needs time to be felt and to heal. That is okay too. It is okay to tell people they hurt you. If you are hurt, that is valid whether or not someone else thinks it is. Your emotions are real.

- (via: Denial)

Heart Burn

2011-09-06T02:43:00.001-04:00

A vice gripped my heart
During quiet murmurings and plans for the next few days I cleared my throat
I could hardly force the words out
But I did
I asked

It is probably my fault
I didn't make it clear how important it was to me that you both came

I'm fighting the urge to not even bother asking because I'm sure I'll be disappointed
So I twist myself into feeling detached and unaffected as if your answer doesn't matter
I tell you it was just a thought I had

But it was important
I wanted to be picked
I wanted to be chosen
I wanted them to want to choose me

I didn't want to have to manipulate and plan the choice. I wanted them to choose me because they wanted to choose me, because I was chosen.

I don't want to be so upset about this
I want to be detached and indifferent
But I also want to make sure that I'm allowing myself to feel these things, regardless of if they matter to anyone else
I want to get to the point that my emotions are not dependent on others validations of them

But can I tell you I still want that validation
I don't understand why it's wrong to want it
I just do, and I don't know what to do about it

A good friend said there's nothing to do about it.
She said that's my specialty, doing
When that's stripped away from me I am afraid I am stripped of everything. All my value.

Which is a lie
One that I'm struggling to stop believing

I'm holding on to hope that one day this could be made right
Cause I've been ship wrecked and left for dead and I've seen the darkest sights
Everyone I've loved seems like a stranger in the night
But oh my heart still burns
Tells me to return
Search the fading light
- Ulysses, Josh Garrels

Good Things: August

2011-09-01T02:57:00.011-04:00

August 1 How I Met Your Mother on dvd before bed

August 2 Nice plumber came out, Pete said I gushed about him, I probably did

August 3 Nice therapy appointment and early bedtime

August 4 I waited to long to start this list, and can't remember today...

August 5 I like free dentist appointments when I can mock the Jersey Shore with my dentist

August 6 Costco! Swimming! Harry Potter Scene It! (Duck A Heart G Hood)

August 7 Awesome message at church today, got me thinking. A lot.

August 8 Home and just about straight into bed after a loooooong day at work

August 9 Snuggling on the couch with Matthew while he told me his ideas on how to remodel my kitchen

August 10 11 hour day at work, but lots of giggles and tension jokes all along

August 11 Fun time dreaming about outreach with church

August 12 Global Leadership Summit

August 13 Nicole's here! Swimming and general merriment

August 14 A funny thing happened in the parking lot of church with Nicole. But I've been sworn to silence so I can't tell you. It makes me feel bad for you.

August 15 Dry wall guys came and an exciting vision meeting for church

August 16 Girlfriends Night Out! We had Mexican, mmmmmm....mexican

August 17 Hey, today I found out I still had a roommate after not seeing him for almost 3 days straight!

August 18 Vision meeting at our church's new building. LOVE my church LOVE

August 19 Bought a bunch of tile for the kitchen, is this renovation over yet?

August 20 Super productive morning at work, pool time and The Dip!

August 21 Judy and Dean went to 3 very very different open houses

August 22 More awkward, more oh so awkward awkwardness at work today

August 23 Snuggling with a 2nd grader before bedtime

August 24 Josh Garrels album all day long

August 25 The Dip to celebrate the first week of school

August 26 Bought 11 gallons of paint at Home Depot, the painting weekend is upon us!

August 27 So thankful for my parents and new friends that came and helped paint. It made me feel very cared for that they came.

August 28 Amazing sermon at church today followed by buying 3 cute stools for the new breakfast bar that will be installed soonish.

August 29 Good talk with a good friend
August 30 Coming home to a painted and getting put back together living room makes me happy.

August 31 Cabinets are going in!

2011-08-31T02:28:00.000-04:00

I don't remember the day that we met
I don't remember what I was wearing or the words that left your lips

I feel like it would be easier
Knowing

Knowing where it started and why it started
Maybe it would help me walk away

I don't remember what happened the first time you spoke to me that way
I don't remember why I was so willing to believe I was worth so little to be cast away with a sigh and roll of your eyes

I feel like if I could only understand the why I would understand what to do next and where I should go from here

But I know better
I know the why isn't important
I know the how and the where and the what isn't the point
I know this started generations before I was around

Because the way we treat people lasts and lasts
The words we speak and the actions we choose or don't choose
They matter

I see it in myself
An exhausted disdain
A wondering if all this digging and fixing is worth it
Because I wonder if I'm worth it
I'm fighting to believe I'm worth it

Decades of apathy and swallowing bitter pills of whatever scraps I could grasp onto have numbed my bravery and I can hardly even ask anymore
But I ask
You forget
I cry
We all move on

And I'm trying to move on
I'm trying to be better
I'm trying to realize that I'm not the only one that needs to do better but I'm the only one that I can make do better
So I try, I move on and I do better

This Costly Faith

2011-08-30T08:12:00.000-04:00

This.

(via:)

“Save me, O God,

for the waters have come up to my neck.

I sink in the miry depths,

where there is no foothold.

I have come into the deep waters;

the floods engulf me.

I am worn out calling for help;

my throat is parched.

My eyes fail,

looking for my God.”

Psalm 69 is a lament, one that puts into words the agony of my own heart right now. I am weary. Night after night I can’t sleep. My body is weakened by stress and I’m physically ill. I feel like a worn out old shoe that has to keep running.

Can you relate?

It doesn’t seem so long ago when the Psalms of Lament hardly made sense to me. I was happy, carefree, full of faith and hope. My life philosophy—”it’ll all work out”—was based on the unwavering belief in the goodness and sovereignty of God. It’s not that I was unfamiliar with suffering. I had faced the worst kinds of hardship that you can imagine—and yet my joy couldn’t be snuffed out.

But now the waters have come up to my neck and I am gasping for air. I still believe in the goodness and sovereignty of God, which is why I cry out to him for help, but he feels far away. His back is turned to me.

And so now, finally, I am learning the cost of faith.

The Psalmist, apparently while still barely treading the deep waters, says,

“I will praise God’s name in song

and glorify him with thanksgiving…

The LORD hears the needy.”

Praising God in advance for rescuing me, though he seems already too late, requires faith so deep I have to suck it out of the marrow of my bones—digging and scraping for it when it refuses to come—rather than depending on my optimistic nature to help it bubble to the surface.

This kind of faith hurts. A lot.

I sing, “Let the waters rise if you want them to. I will follow you,” but the tears stream down my face as I do. It’s like reaching the 25 mile marker in a marathon: you go on even though each step hurts.

And that’s when I remember that Jesus himself did this same thing.

“Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!” (Hebrews 12:2-3, The Message)

I’m going to press on, no matter what the cost. I’m going to focus on the prize to strengthen my feeble arms and weak knees. And I’ll trust God even if the water pulls me under.

How about you? Will you fix your eyes on Jesus too?

by Heather Gemmen Wilson

Ouch

2011-08-29T08:10:00.002-04:00

I'm to sore to post. Painting for 12 hours will get you that way fast. But I have before and some after pictures coming soon!

Five Minute: Random Thoughts

2011-08-26T08:05:00.000-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

By the time I left work last night I had hit 40 hours for the week, and I'll likely be at work for 10 hours today. The OT is nice, but man am I exhausted. On top of the kitchen reno and the handing off of Washington Project meetings this girl sure could use a Saturday in bed watching movies.

Speaking of Saturdays, tomorrow there is a painting party at my house. We're painting every inch of the upstairs main rooms and hallway, including the ceiling. If you want to come that would be awesome. But I know most of you are far far away.

Uncle Rico has calmed the heck down. There was almost two whole days of no awkwardness then a little hiccup. I think he's just that socially awkward. It's kind of funny now that it's now killer-esque.

My cats are dusty. They keep rolling around in the dry wall dust and they feel all chalky. Don't tell them, but they're getting a bath when this weekend is over.

I am at the point of the kitchen renovation when I have to spend the money I've gotten quoted out to me. This means in the next week I'm writing checks that will add up to at least $7,000. :gulp:

Apparently there was an earthquake this week, I didn't feel it but the "outrage" on the internet is cracking me up.

Finally, I'm excited the kitchen reno is coming to a close. The walls will be painted, the tile in place and the cabinets go in next week. Then we have a 2 week waiting period for the counter top to go in and it will be done! I can't hardly wait.

What has your week been like?

Done.

Love & War & the Sea in Between

2011-08-25T07:32:00.001-04:00

I've been having a love affair with Josh Garrels album Love & War & the Sea in Between for the last few days.
It's so moody, beautiful and hopeful despite it's moodiness.

You can get it for free by clicking the album link above or go to NoiseTrade and download it for free there.

So delicious. Probably the most I've loved any new album in a long time. Plus, it's FREE.

Truth Is...

2011-08-24T01:03:00.000-04:00

"The truth is, the biggest sin issue right now, for me, is that I just don't believe God's promises are true for me."

This is what I said to a dear friend back in the early spring. We were at a conference together and I was just walloped over the head thanks to a speaker talking about volunteer burnout and taking time for you and God alone.
It's still mostly true.

I believe in a big God. A God that is huge but can make himself small enough to come into our lives and walk beside us in every moment with every thing. I believe that God will redeem the years that I fought him and that he will redeem the years I believed he saw only the value in me that I believed (and was told) I had.

Most days it's not clean, and most days it's not easy. But I push on and fake it until I make it sometimes.
Because I believe even when I don't.
I believe when it's messy and when it's hard, I believe when I hear him the least that He is still here, holding me in His ocean of grace. Even when I don't believe, I believe. Because I don't know what else to hold.

What else is there to hold really? People have failed me, I have failed me. Food has failed me, possessions have failed me, drinking has failed me. Encounters both casual and not so casual have all failed me because none of them were casual to my heart.

The truth is it's easier for me to believe that God loves you than that he loves me. I have been so utterly convinced of my wretchedness that I have lumped God in with those that tell me I am nothing to them with voice and deed.

The truth is, we're all wretches apart from the salvation of a God that loved us all so much he sent his Son to die for us. The truth is we're all in desperate face to the floor need of his ocean of grace.

So I'm repenting. I'm choosing to believe and I'm asking God to help my unbelief. His promises do not say that God sent his Son for everyone but me. They do not say that everyone is eligible for redemption and forgiveness but me. How selfish to even think that it would.

The truth is, I have no idea what I'm doing and I'm realizing that not a lot of other people do either. I'm just a broken girl, asking forgiveness for the audacity to believe she was beyond the reach of God's promises and grace.

All will arise and follow you over
Savior please, pilot me.
Over the waves and through every sorrow
Savior please, pilot me
Oh Lord, Oh Lord
Oh Lord, Oh Lord
-Josh Garels Pilot Me

Uncle Rico: Part Deux

2011-08-23T02:59:00.000-04:00

So Uncle Rico strikes again!
We got some ice cream treats at work today because of how crazy it has been. Twix, Snickers, Klondike Sandwiches, and Skinny Cow bars.
I walked around to everyone while I was on my lunch to ask if they wanted me to bring anything. People, even people ON THE PHONE with customers muted their phones and told me what they wanted.

I walked up to Uncle Rico, who was not on the phone, and asked him what he wanted. Instead of using his words he pantomimed milking a cow.
Now I assumed that meant Skinny Cow bar, which it did. But if you pause and pantomime milking a cow it can resemble another action which was NOT on the menu.

Later, I think I caught him taking a picture of me on his phone.

Nothing to see here folks, just documenting in case my instincts of KILLER KILLER KILLER are accurate

:walksawaywhistling:

Explanations

2011-08-22T08:17:00.000-04:00

Sometimes when you tell someone a story and you're explaining why you picked the fake names you picked it's awkward.

Like this sentence:

Well I'm Judith Light, he's Dean Cain and then this other person who we weren't even talking about was Tony Danza.

Then laugh wildly.

Mix all that together and you'll have as awkward of a conversation as I just did.

With my boss.

Who's the Boss indeed.

Letting it Down

2011-08-18T02:58:00.000-04:00

"I'm sorry I let you down. But you let me down too."
-Baby (Dirty Dancing)

I got a text about needing to chat. Over the course of the next few days I began to wonder, what had I done? Because my immediate belief is that I've done something wrong and I will be chastised.

Deafening silence happens and I think, what did I do? What action or inaction did I take to cause this to happen.

It all feels very selfish to me. As if I'm focusing so inward I can't see outward anymore.
But at the same time I'm realizing that the outward focus was founded in desperation to hide from something, something in me that I saw as being without value. Something I believed everyone else saw too.

I didn't know I could be valued for simply being alive. I didn't know how to look for that value in Christ and not men or women around me. I still don't get it entirely.

I also didn't know how to share the blame. Even though I can articulate to you that it's not all my fault, that statistically speaking it's impossible for all the blame to lay at my feet I believe that had I been more; more perfect, more demure, more deferential, more humerous...more, that people wouldn't have left. I believe that were I more I would know the answer to the great mysteries of life and relationship.

I'm learning to believe that everyone feels this way to some degree. That no one has it as together as the expectations I place on them and myself. Yet I push forward, aiming for perfection and dying inside when I inevitably miss.

So I'm making peace with having to look inward for a little while; to figure out and uproot the sin and the doubt that I find and then move outward so the serving, the friendship, the love that I offer to others can be deeper, more genuine and less chaotic.

I know that I have let people down. It's the way life goes. But I'm just now realizing that when they let me down I can name it and not assume that I am somehow to blame. It's terrifying really, but freeing just the same.

Five Minutes: Uncle Rico

2011-08-18T01:04:00.000-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

I'm training a new guy at work and this morning when we're sitting at my desk I look over and he is flexing his bicep over and over and staring at it. I burst out laughing because, really?
So I said, "What's up Uncle Rico?"
Then we moved on and made some Napoleon Dynamite references and quoted the movie for a bit.

This is not in and of itself awkward, mostly entertaining.
BUT THEN.....

About 4 hours later the new guy saunters up to my desk and says, "Speaking of my Uncle Rico moment, take a look at this"
He then holds out his iPhone and proceeds to show me a video of him WORKING OUT at his old job where they had a corporate wellness program. Awkward enough right?

BUT THEN....

The video moves to him do handstands against a wall and then doing push ups while standing on his hand. During which his shirt fell up over his head and exposed his extraordinarily hairy chest. Awkward enough?

BUT THEN...

He tells me that this was back when he was much more in shape than he is now and he starts doing that annoying guy thing where they rub their chest and belly with the flat of their hand and FLEXING some more!
Super awkward has been reached.

BUT THEN....

He says, "There's about 5-6 more minutes of this video if you want to see it all."
I replied, "Uh, no. I got the jist of it.

WTF new dude. WTF

Done

Paying

2011-08-17T02:42:00.001-04:00

It never casually passes my lips. Even if it appears that way, it's never casual to me.
Each time feels like a small death in my heart.

I didn't know it would be our last conversation.
I didn't know it would be the last time I heard your voice.
Because I never imagined it could change. I never imagined it would end like it did in a dull pop and a ceasing of everything.

But it did.

Now I pay. When I say your name, when something happens that reminds me of you and a story we lived through side by side. When something funny happens and my heart leaps to tell you but I remember that you are gone.
Just gone.
Just like that.
Just as low key as you entered, you left.

Things change, I know this. But I didn't think that we would. Without my noticing, without realizing what was happening it was changed.
Part me, part you, part all the things unspoken and misunderstood.

Now I'm changed. Both less than and more without you. Finding my way one small death at a time to the other side, wondering what I could have changed had I known it would be our last conversation.

Just Wondering

2011-08-16T02:55:00.000-04:00

Sometimes when someone mentions something to me, casually...seemingly out of the blue...I get immediately suspicious.
I wonder if they really mean it, I wonder if they'll actually follow through without me whining and asking when and how and why.

Just wondering tonight if that will ever go away.

Ten Things: Reno Edition

2011-08-15T02:45:00.000-04:00

The upstairs renovation is chugging along. Here's a list, because I can:

Taking off the base board was fun. I figured it out all on my own. Which doesn't sound like a lot, but it was for me.
Gertrude and Agnes are freaking out. I'm convinced they suspect we're moving again and they're defensively moving from place to place trying to hold down furniture so we don't have to move. That or they're afraid we're going to move into a hotel for a week again like when my hardwood floors were re-done. Either way, they're pretty pissy
Pete is a flippin Rockstar. He's done so much so well this entire renovation and I don't know how to tell him without it being annoying.
The living room has been emptied in preparation for the drywall guys tomorrow, which means the Wii is in my room. Wiiiiiii indeed!
I really need to move my sofas and clean behind them waaaaaaay more often. There was enough cat hair back there to build 6 more cats
When we moved the stove we found 13 cat toys under it.
When we moved the fridge we realized that there is a filter under it for the air system and it should be cleaned more often than once every almost 3 years. Yikes.
Breaking baseboard with my ~~bare hands~~ feet made me feel powerful. I was reveling in this new found power and immediately picked up an older piece that I couldn't break. booo
The pool was a smart purchase, it has been lovely through all this
T-minus 1 1/2 weeks until the kitchen has cabinets, but almost a month until it will have counter tops, sink and dishwasher. Like Pete said, I see the light at the end of the tunnel, I just hope it's not a train.

Five Minutes: Roomate

2011-08-12T01:09:00.000-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

I have a roommate named Pete. He's pretty awesome. He makes me dinner each night and has rewired my entire upstairs and tiled my master bath and is about to tile my kitchen. See. Awesome.
He also will hate this blog post.

We're sitting in the living room tonight as he prattles on about the electrical as if I understand what the heck he's even talking about (I mean he's ACTUALLY talking about electrical now and I'm typing about how I don't know what he's talking about and he has NO IDEA).

A few minutes before this post I sighed and lamented how I wished I had my water that was in the fridge. So dude got UP off of his chair and walked into the kitchen to get me my water. Then walked back to me and I said, "Hmmm, nope. That's not my water. It's my mom's and I just can't drink it." He walked BACK to the kitchen and got me another bottle and brought it to me.

I said, "You realize you're only encouraging me to keep asking you to do these things you know, right?"
He replied, "Yes. But this is why I've stopped cooking you dinner each night so you won't be too spoiled."

I'm thinking the reason he stopped cooking is because our kitchen has been demolished and has no cupboards or anything and our actual food is in the 3rd bedroom. But I'm not about to split hairs.

Besides, I have my water now so I have to go and drink that up.

Done.

Identity

2011-08-11T04:10:00.000-04:00

Through this end season of leading Washington Project I'm feeling excited for the unknown that is to come and also a little scared. Because I find a lot of my identity in doing things for other people. If I am useful people like me. It's the belief that I have.
More and more I'm seeing the pattern of transition that God has me in, the pattern of transitioning my definition of identity from one found in others and tasks to one that is found solely at His feet.

I clung to a friendship, regardless of how often we spoke or how awkward things were starting to get I knew,

I was her FRIEND

I told stories of their antics and the sweet things that they would say to me and I knew,

I was their AUNT

I spoke of stories from the growing up years, of the small town living under their roof years and I knew,

I was their Daughter

I planned serves and led meeting. I told people Jesus loved them and I blushed appropriately when people commended the things I did through Washington Project and Outreach. I knew,

I was a Leader

I sent silly cards through the mail, I took dinners to new moms, I attended showers and small groups and showed up when they needed help, I knew,

I was a Volunteer

I scheduled nights out with friends and weekends away. I coordinated schedules with friends that were moms, wives or otherwise engaged with their own separate life. I ensure family time was filled and on schedule.
Because regardless of anything else that was going on in life it would come down to the identity I found in those relationships and tasks and I knew,

I was a Planner

I smoothed things over, I contorted my heart into shattered little shapes, I ensure that even with other people were losing their cool that I was calm and collected and available to pick up the pieces. I knew,

I was a Peacekeeper

I mean, I'm no Job or anything, but little by little the things I identified myself with and by have been removed from my life, or at the least altered deeply. But there was still leading Washington Project. As the others identities lessened and I became more autonomous or less involved I was still the leader of Washington Project. It was for JESUS. Obviously it wasn't an identity that was BAD right?

Then a few months ago I started hearing, leading doesn't define you either.
I started hearing, even if you quit this you would still be complete and who I created you to be as my daughter.

But I still pressed forward.

Until one day, I heard God whisper, "this too. I'll take this too."
He didn't take it through the destruction of the ministry or through some great moral collapse of mine or another leaders. He just gently reached into my heart and told me it was time to walk away. To take a break. To be still and know that regardless of anything else in or around my life that HE was GOD.

There are still moments. When I ask Him if He's sure. If He's SURE that I'll be ok without a defined role. If He's SURE that people will still like me when I'm not doing anything for them. That people would still have things to talk about with me, that I would still be valuable to people.

Because I'm afraid I'm not.
I'm afraid I'm not valuable without reason to others.

Tonight I thought, you know what. I might not be.
I might not have value to others without a reason.

The lesson I hear God trying to tell me over and over again lately is that even if that's true it's fine. It is fine.

Because I am valued by Him

I am precious to Him

And so are you.

Friday Friday

2011-08-10T07:25:00.000-04:00

Today is my Friday, and I have 3 days of work to do before I can come back home from work. So...see you on the flip side!

Some Days

2011-08-09T07:18:00.000-04:00

Some days it's heavier.
Heavier to hold this wondering if I'll ever even out.
If I'll ever stop wondering when the other shoe will drop, when you will leave, when your lies (because I believe they exist) will come to light.

Some days it's harder to believe that it will all be ok and it will all work out in the end.

Some days I have to cling to hope and His promises so tightly I can't feel my heart anymore.

Because I believe this will all be redeemed. I believe that this will all be used for my good and His glory.
Some days I just need to remind myself a little more so I can swing my feet out of bed and face the day knowing my doubts will scream at me from the minute my eyes open until they finally shut again.

Conditional Grace

2011-08-08T03:25:00.004-04:00

I've recently been added to a group on Facebook. There's a new rash of "You know you're from (or attended) :insertcityorschoolnamehere: if..." groups and I was added to the one from my High School.

Its been filled with posts about the ins and outs of attending said school as well as a lot of people that aren't my FB friends and who I was happy to mostly not have to speak to again.
It seems a little cliche to not enjoy the high school you attended, and it's not exactly that I didn't enjoy the high school that I attended or even the town I grew up in, really. I didn't mind it. But I also didn't like a lot of the people or things that happened there. Very typical small town and it's been interesting to see where people ended up and how people have changed, or in a lot of cases stayed the same.

Enter a sermon on judgement Sunday at church and it had me thinking a lot today about grace.

Because I am realizing more and more how I offer conditional grace.
I have a hard time letting people exit the boxes I remember them living in, the way I remember them being. Even though I loathe when that happens to me, when people don't let me evolve, change and mature I can't give everyone the same courtesy.

I'm learning how to walk the fine line between judgement and grace. I'm learning that just like with almost every other aspect in my life I am an all or nothing kind of girl. I'm the kind of girl that either believes there is redemption for people even when I can't see the possibility, or they are un-redeemable. I'm also learning that sometimes there are appropriate and correct boundaries that must be set.
See, I have this idea that I should give my all to everyone. That I should try to make them happy and comfortable and help their lives be as wrinkle-free as possible.

The only problem with that is I end up feeling left out, forgotten or I ultimately (or immediately) end up sacrificing my values, beliefs or mental/emotional well-being in the process.
I'm learning that I can't do it anymore.

I just can't.

I'm learning that I shouldn't either. That just because there should be grace, and that should cover everyone it is not my job to make things ok for them. Sometimes, things need to not be ok for other people.

It's the root of a lot of tension in my life right now as I move forward trying to begin relationships with healthy boundaries and build healthier boundaries into the existing relationships in my life. It's taking a lot of energy to seek God's will for what he wants in and around my life and to say no and stick to it when there are people and things in my life that I just can't abide any longer.
Because I'm stuck in that tension of being a people pleaser, wanting people to like me and want me around. I'm seeing more often how destructive and detrimental that is when I choose keeping others happy and content over doing what is right for my heart.

Even typing it I feel incredibly selfish. I want to qualify it with all sorts of reasons and examples of why it's important. But I'm not.
It's important because it's what God's asking me to do right now, and I do in fact need to do it with grace; especially when it impacts others.
Ben was right on the spot Sunday when he said that for generations we've offered either the truth without grace or grace without the truth.

I'm learning how to balance them both in the only messy and broken way that I know how.

Five Minutes: Whole

2011-08-05T10:19:00.001-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

I've not felt whole for a long time. I've felt less than and halved by things both in and out of my control. A big part of therapy has been figuring out that I'm a whole person. My heart is whole. The romantic idea of giving away a piece of my heart is untrue. I am complete and whole in Jesus. HE is what has completed and formed me, the rest is just details.
But there has been a huge difference between knowing that in my head and really believing it in my every day walking around life.
I don't trust myself, I don't trust my decisions. I'm constantly looking for validation from specific others and when they won't, can't or don't give it to me I go looking for it elsewhere.
That has led to a lot of situations I should have never been in, situations I inserted myself into intentionally looking for a validation I couldn't find.

Lately I've been finding my feet are standing firmer on the ground. I find myself more grounded and guarded with my heart. I'm less free with access to it and quite frankly it's terrifying.
I wonder if I set boundaries and keep them if people will leave me. I worry that the people I'm have appropriate boundaries with will see me setting boundaries with others and think I'm a bitch.

As my heart realizes each day how whole it truly is I'm starting to realize that even if the catastrophic events I fear and worry about happen that it's going to be ok.

Because at some point, I have to decide that my health and wholeness is just as important (if not more important) than that of others. I have to be ok, because right now I'm still not ok. I'm still prone to co-dependency (to use a therapeutic catch phrase) and manipulation by others.
My heart still doesn't realize it's whole and complete on its own, it's still looking for pieces of others, for relationships to fill in gaps it doesn't realize is already filled in by the King of Kings.

But I'm getting there. I'm more whole than I've ever been.

Done.

Red Flags

2011-08-04T07:50:00.000-04:00

I don't trust myself.
My judgement, my decisions, I always think they're probably wrong.
Always.

So when a person comes into my life and I see all of these red flags going up I don't trust the boundaries that I want to set, because what if I'm wrong.
Others don't seem to have a problem with this person.
Others seem to think it's perfectly find to interact with them.

But the thought of hanging around this person makes my head scream

DON'T DO IT

I'm pretty sure I'm right. I don't know that I need to never be in the presence of this person, it would be pretty hard anyway because we're in the same circles, but I definitely think I need to be very VERY aware of the things I say to and around this person. I think that I need to speak the boundaries out loud to this person and hold the consequences in place when the boundaries are inevitably broken.

So I sought council, with my counselor even, and she agreed.

GIANT RED FLAGS

Lies and abuse of trust are very clear indicators that this person isn't trustworthy and isn't someone that I should be delving into a relationship with, especially right now. Because I'm re-assessing my relationships to pursue healthier ones and I'm working to do what's best for me emotionally and mentally I can't afford to deeply invest myself in someone that will be so draining and likely damaging to my forward motion.

But still I worry. What if I'm wrong? What if I'm not looking hard enough for the good in people? What if I'm not giving this person a chance to show me who they really are? What if I lose other people because they don't understand my resistance to being involved with this person?

On healthier days I think, so what?
At some point I need to realize that I am the one that is ultimately responsible for guarding my heart. I am the one that is ultimately responsible for saying no, it's too much, I can't help carry you.

I had a healthier day yesterday, and it felt nice.

Reno Schmeno

2011-08-03T08:15:00.000-04:00

The kitchen has been destroyed.
Contractors have been contracted, plumbers have been called and schedules made.
Now....I just have to survive.

But it's not going as bad as I thought it would be, I'm hesitant to say that because I'm afraid everything will fall apart.

Hopefully soon I'll have before pictures from my dad camera to show you guys, and then in a few short weeks I'll have after pictures too.

Stay tuned!

Wake Up

2011-08-02T08:13:00.000-04:00

My mom had a brother named John, we called him Johnny.
He was sick a lot, there were some things wrong with him and he was also a short but rotund man. But he was Uncle Johnny. He died when I was 3ish.
The story goes that he slept a lot, because of the decreased amount of oxygen he was receiving. Whenever we would go over to the farm house and he was there he would be sleeping on the sofa.
I would take it upon myself to climb up his belly and pat him on the face telling him I had arrived and it was time to wake up and play with me. He would wake up and I would continue to climb all over him.

When he died I hear I was told that he fell asleep and woke up in heaven with Jesus. He would stay there forever. So when we went to his funeral and I saw him laying in his casket I believed he was asleep. There were also those little Catholic kneeling things in front of his casket.
So when I was unattended I wandered over to the casket and climbed up the "steps" and looked at him.
Yep, he looked asleep.
So I kept climbing and crawled into the casket and up his belly until I could reach his face. I put my hands on his face and I said, "Wake up Uncle Johnny, I'm here! It's time to get up and play with me!"

I don't know what happened next, that part of the story was never told. I can imagine that my Grandma, his mom was pretty upset as were a lot of the other adults. He was pretty young when he died.

I do remember asking my Grandma about it when I was 16. I was trying to find out more about Uncle Johnny and what he was like, since I didn't remember him that well. I only really remembered how I felt when I was around him. After a little bit of small talk I asked her if the funeral story was true.
She stopped talking for a moment and just looked at me with hard little eyes. Then she said, "Yes. I can't believe what a selfish and cruel girl you were to do that to me at my sons funeral. I will NEVER EVER forgive you for what you did."

As all memories and stories go I remember more about how I felt during each part of the story than the specifics. The story had been told and re-told so often that I honestly wasn't sure if it even happened. That's why these are memories, that are probably only partly true. But I remember the shame I felt. Because I believed her when she said I was selfish and cruel, I believed her when she said I was bad.
I believe that she never forgave me until the day she died. There was no reason to doubt a woman that held a grudge for over 70 years couldn't nurse one for over 15.

Good Things: July

2011-08-01T01:27:00.010-04:00

July 1 Cleveland! Road Trip Dance Party complete with air xylephones!

July 2 Most relaxing day I've had in a long time, and pool time!

July 3 Nice time meeting friends of friends and lots of laughter at lunch...then....POOL TIME

July 4 It's nice to stay out of town, but it's lovely to come back. Sleeping in my own bed was my favorite

July 5 I bought a pool, ok...technically I bought 2, but one is being returned because of missing parts

July 6 First swim in the pool!

July 7 2nd swim in the pool!

July 8 Met with the next leaders of WP and kept hearing the phrase "for such a time as this" echoing in my heart. Love when God does that.

July 9 4 hours in the pool! Most of it with Sharen and the kids. The sunburn was totally worth it.

July 10 Pool time and chatting with Amber. I really like her a lot. Also, finished my bedroom and put it all back together!

July 11 Woke up after sleeping for almost 10 hours and I was still exhausted. I blame the sunburn

July 12 Started watching Friday Night Lights, already cried 3 times.

July 13 Speaking of crying, today was cry number 1 of the kitchen remodel (and it hasn't even started yet)

July 14 Harry Potter premier!

July 15 Harry Potter premier started at 12:01, so it counts for today too

July 16 Harry Potter a 2nd time and lounging at the dogsitting house

July 17 I actually got to sit in church today! Also, lunch with Sharen and Matthew

July 18 Washington Project meetings are my favorite. I wonder if they'll let me crash after I'm done...

July 19 Girlfriends Night Out!

July 20 I yelled at my therapist today, and she said she understood

July 21 I felt really lucky to be in an air conditioned house today

July 22 I came home and did nothing today, nothing but read and go to bed early

July 23 3 movies and a book were devoured today, it was lovely

July 24 Had a great Sunday nap

July 25 People asking about birthday plans reassures me they won't forget (because honestly I'm scared people will forget)

July 26 Birthday Eve!

July 27 Happy Birthday to me! 32, yeesh

July 28 Birthday hangover, LOTS to do at home and work. No rest for the weary

July 29 The calm before the remodel storm

July 30 Let the kitchen remodel begin!

July 31 $75 worth of stuff for $20 out of pocket at Charming Charlies!

Five Minutes: Full

2011-07-29T08:16:00.000-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

I've had a lot of celebrations for my birthday. Lots of lunches and dinners out and even more to come this weekend. I'm full.
I'm full of food to the degree that I ate toast for dinner last night (and maybe a little Chinese leftovers). I'm full of food that I can't barely think of where to go to eat during my continued celebrations because I feel like I've eaten everywhere I want to in the past week.
I'm full of gratitude. For the celebrations and that there are people that want to celebrate with me and be happy with me. I'm so thankful for the health that I have (despite all the aforementioned food that has been eaten), my home, even my cats as silly as that sounds even to me.
I'm full of surprise at how excited people are and that I'm remembered by people I wouldn't even expect to be remembered by.

I'm full of love. For the people that are here; that show up even when I'm cranky and push them away. I'm thankful for the people that push through and stick around despite all of my efforts to taunt them into leaving like I'm afraid they will eventually.

I'm full of plans, for my house, for my future after Washington Project, for my job. I'm even full of fuzzy gray thoughts on relationships that I've sworn off for good.

I'm so full. This girl couldn't be more grateful for all the fullness in her right now.

Done.

The Loudest

2011-07-28T08:41:00.000-04:00

I don't know if the silence is a direct result of mine, it could be.
I don't know if the withdrawal is a direct result of mine, it could be.

But I don't think it is.

I think it's been this way for a long time and this is the first time I'm hearing it, seeing it.

I'm torn between becoming hardened and bitter and continuing to hope to be chosen. It's a choice I have to make every day.

So I don't talk about it, because what else is there to say?
I don't cry and scream and throw things, because what is the point.
I wonder what the point is in continuing to hope to be chosen in the face of all evidence to the contrary. But still I wait.

My phone doesn't leave my side because I'm sure you won't let the day pass AGAIN without at least a text. I'm sure you won't forget again this year. I'm confident in the midst of your day full of oh so urgent and important things that you will find me important enough for notice and consideration.

But at the end of the day I walk to my room, I turn down the bed, I crawl under the covers, I lay my head on the pillow and find myself once again seemingly forgotten.

I am so thankful for the rest of it. The rest of the wishes and hoopla. I feel warm and fuzzy and loved. But there is still a massive hole where you used to live and the grief washes over me anew.
I can't help that your silence screams the loudest.
I can only miss you and try to do the best that I can and hope you're doing the same.

32 Flavors

2011-07-27T01:57:00.006-04:00

It feels weird to be 32.
I love birthdays. I really do. But the last few years I've noticed that I don't want to bring mine up. I hold my breath almost waiting for the day to pass unnoticed.
I expect for you to forget.
Because I feel forgotten so much.

I sit and wonder if anyone will say anything or do anything fun when I've never had a single year when everyone forgot.
But still I expect it so I won't be surprised when no one remembers. Some years I combat this by throwing myself a party, other years I just quietly sit and wait, then act surprised when people want to do something....because honestly, I'm surprised.

It feels weird to be 32 after another year of digging around in and cleaning out the dark corners of my heart. I've learned to be a better friend to some this year, and I've learned how to ask for better friendships. I've come to grips with just how damaged I have been from the trauma I jokingly brushed aside for so long and minimized in so many ways. I've asked for help, even when I didn't feel like it and especially when I didn't expect help to arrive.

But this year, I started acknowledging that it hurt, that it really hurt even still after all this time. I started asking to be chosen and then learning that when I wasn't that I wasn't responsible for other peoples emotional choices.
As silly as it sounds I've learned that I'm an adult. I was blown away one day in the midst of some serious fear about an upcoming meeting with someone new I realized I am an adult. I was afraid this person was out to get me, was going to attack me in some way and I didn't feel safe. But I remembered; I have a car, that I own, that I can drive wherever I want to drive whenever I want to drive it and if this person starts attacking me I can just get up and leave.
You could have knocked me over with a feather.

To some, on the surface, I seem a little crazier. But the thing is, all of this was seething under the surface like a life force I had no control over. I don't know how much control I have over it now, I only know that letting the crazy out feels healthier than keeping it in most days.

So I'm 32. I'm making big girl decisions about things and asking for relationships that are healthier than I've ever had before. I've had a group of girlfriends pop up that I never expected. I mean I honestly never expected these women. But I'm so happy they popped up anyway.
I feel calmer than I ever have on the inside, the outside will come later I suppose.

So here's to 32, I can't wait to see what happens this year.

Dentistry

2011-07-26T01:39:00.002-04:00

I have put a lot of money in my mouth. Not eating it, but handing it to dentists to let them fix my teeth. I have bad dental genes but I also haven't always taken care of my mouth the way I should have.
As a result I have paid for it over the years.
But yesterday I felt like I was punched in the face by the dentist because they were working on a back tooth and their instruments were pressed up against my cheek bone, I actually had a tiny bruise.

So that is my flimsy and not detailed enough to make my sister throw up excuse for not posting today. I blame the novocaine.

Peeling off Skin

2011-07-25T02:00:00.002-04:00

This made my heart beat faster and my mind scream YES! THIS!
(via Deeper Story)

Earlier this week, someone told me a story. It changed me, so I’m going to tell you the story too.

“A rabbi was walking home from the synagogue after a long day of going about his work. It was later than usual, and as he walked home, the sun set. Lost deep in thought, he took the left – instead of the right when the path split. Instead of nearing home, he was walking towards a Roman outpost. “WHO GOES THERE” boomed a deep voice in the dark, shaking him from his thoughts. Shaken and confused, the rabbi tried to figure out who this was at his home. “WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE” thundered back, as a massive centurion stepped into view. The rabbi quickly realized the mistake he must have made. Instead of answering the centurion’s question, he replied, “how much are you paid to stand here every day?” “Three drachma” replied the centurion. “I see,” said the rabbi. “I will pay you twice as much to stand in front of my door and ask me the same question every single day.”

Who are you? And what are you doing here?

What happens when we go home without being asked who we are?

What happens when our daily routine gives other people and their expectations the ability to tell us who we are and what we are doing?

What happens when what we believe of ourselves is unconsciously accepted, without being intentionally determined?

Who are you?

Like a splash of fresh water over cloudy eyes, for a split second I am in discomfort – but then I am able to see Myself. I question all of it. Asking only Him.

Who are you?

Have you been your sister’s cover? Your brother’s secret keeper? Your parents’ child? The peacemaker? The black sheep? The responsible one? The slut? The liar? The baby? The abandoned? The one who always comforts? The academic? The lazy?

Who have you been?

The fighter? The middle man? The coward? The addict? The best one? The extrovert? Your father’s daughter? Your mother’s confidant? The weight bearer? The cheated on? The cheater? The talented one? The stupid one?

Who are you?

Do you have permission to be you? God gives that. Did you know that?

God created you as YOU. Our family tells us our DNA is exactly like theirs, but the truth is that your intricately woven DNA is yours and yours alone.

God’s relationship with you is for YOU. Not for your pastor, your best friend, your significant other, your parents, your siblings.

God redeemed you from YOU. Not to let you remain as who you are, but to transform you into who you created to be.

God has called you by NAME. Your name, the name he gave to you and no other. A name that no one but God knows. (Isaiah 43:1)

It is hard to let go of what others have asked us to be. It is hard to step back from what others have told us to be. It is hard to choose a different name for ourselves than the one that has been given.

But you are not of this world. You have been born again. Your first family is the family of God, not of men. Your first allegiance is to your Father, not to the world. Man sees only the outward appearance, but the Lord sees the heart. (I Samuel 16:7)

Jesus has made you a new creation. He has taken out your heart of stone and given you a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 36:26)

So write it on your walls, your hand, your mirrors, your doors:

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

As a sister in Christ, I tell you it is like peeling off my own skin and grafting on the new – to erase what people have desired me to be. But I tell you that it is worth it, and it is right, and it is a truth that will set you free.

Who have you been? And who are you, as created by God?
Please, share it with me.

Five Minutes: Hi-Yah

2011-07-22T02:23:00.030-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

My therapist suggested that it might be a good idea to go to karate or some kind of self defense class. She said, not just go but really learn it.
Apparently it might help with my paranoia.
So of course I said that was all well and good but what if I was sleeping and someone came into my house to attack me. Then I'd be attacked in a dead sleep, or I could be locked in a trunk and I'm not Sydney Bristow, I couldn't just hi-yah my way out of the trunk.

See, whenever someone (or myself) tries to reassure me that I'm safe...I can come up with at least 3 if not 4 ways they're wrong.

Get a dog- The killers could also kill the dog, they could feed it frozen hot dogs to distract it, I could have one of those broken dogs that doesn't bark at strangers

Get an alarm system- The wires could be cut, I could forget to set it, a contractor could figure out the code and disarm it, a worker could just hide in my house without leaving so they're ALREADY IN THE HOUSE when I set the alarm and go to bed.

Get a gun- OH LORD. People are killed with their own guns all the time, my friend had a gun feet from her and was still murdered, I would probably end up shooting my cats or Pete before I actually used it on an attacker

So on and so on I can go. Because I know there are exceptions to all the rules. I know that attacks can happen anywhere. I know the saying, "I didn't think that could happen here" is a damn lie.
I mean, people say that this person hasn't killed anyone or robbed anyone or whatever but again, LOTS of people were murderers until they killed someone.

I don't watch scary movies/shows anymore. I barely watch the news and I don't read scary books except on accident. But still, I'm terrified all the time and even after working through the belief that I'm not safe anywhere I still believe it as much. I don't know how to stop believing it or calm down about it.

Maybe I will take a martial arts class. But Pete should probably take one too, because I startle easily and don't want to karate chop him to death because I didn't expect to turn the corner and find him in the kitchen.

Goes Away

2011-07-21T08:22:00.000-04:00

We've been working on safety issues in therapy lately. Which of course means that my nightmares have escalated and I've started to have trouble sleeping again.
It always seems to get worse before it gets better.

But I was doing this homework assignment where I'm supposed to identify a belief (about the world not like religious beliefs or something) and as I was working through a belief about how safe I feel with other people and in relationships when the belief that my love makes people go away flowed out of my pen without prompt.
As I read it aloud to my therapist she made me stop and we talked about it.

We talked about how I don't trust that people will stay. That one day I'll be too much for them, either too clingy or too distant, too loud or too soft, too available or too overbooked and they'll grow tired of trying to be my friend or love me and they'll just disappear.
Or they'll die.
Which logically I know doesn't mean they leave me but we weren't really worried about logical at that point.

Because I've been behaving and acting in relationships based out of this belief.

One of the questions I had to ask about the belief is if the source of the belief is reliable.
I had to pause because I thought the source of this belief were the list of people that had left, who had dropped out of relationships with me (through death or by choice of walking away and no longer returning calls) and I felt caved in on when it happened. Some of them I thought were really reliable sources. Because they had been, up until the time they weren't.
But really the biggest source of that belief is me and when it came to how I viewed relationships and my safety in them I had to realize that I was unreliable.
Because I didn't trust that feeling you get when you meet someone knew. I didn't listen to myself when I heard that whisper of "tread carefully with this one" and I willingly and recklessly gave all of my heart and all of my secrets to them from the word hello.
I allowed them all full access to my heart without allowing the relationship to develop because I was so desperate for someone to care. Someone to see me as I truly was.

Did I scare some of them away? Of course. But the others I should have never let in in the first place.
I felt that if someone was kind to me I needed to befriend them and help them in anyway that I could. I needed to pursue them because they of course wanted to be pursued.

I was treating them the way I wanted to be treated and expecting them to reciprocate.

But that's not how relationships work.
I don't really know how to change that belief, that my love is annoying and too much and people eventually grow weary of me and go away.

I take that back. I think I do know how to change it, and I think it's happening already. Through therapy yes, but a lot of the work is through the talking it out. The speaking aloud and writing out of these fears and this paranoia. Of realizing that I can't and don't control others or their actions and motives but that I should be more protective of my heart. I should let people in, but slowly and intentionally instead of quickly and desperately.

I still feel really unsafe relationally, and day by day I'm figuring out what it means to have healthier relationships and healthy boundaries in them.

Drive Time

2011-07-20T08:16:00.000-04:00

I couldn't wait to get my license.
My sister had tried to teach me how to drive stick at 14 but I just couldn't get the clutch/shift timing down...oh and there was the time I drove by the cop while trying to get out of 1st. That was fun!

But I couldn't wait.
So I didn't.

From 14 forward whenever I was home alone and there was a car available I would take the car and disappear down the country roads around my house. I would drive as fast as possible as far as possible until I had to turn around so I could make it home in time.
But before I would go home I'd go to the gas station and fill the tank up to the level it was at when I left so no one noticed the car had been used. I also got home early enough for the car to cool down before anyone thought to check it.

It was glorious.

One time I was driving through town and a cop pulled up behind me. Oh crap! He was pulling me over! I started to shake and had no idea what I was going to do. I just sat there freaking out trying to remain calm. He sidled up to my window as I rolled it down and said, "Yes, officer?" (and I may have batted my eyelashes a little bit....)
Thankfully he replied that he was just pulling me over because there had been a bad accident at the intersection ahead of me and the road was blocked. The last road to turn around on was just in front of me and he didn't want me to get stuck.
(PHEW!)

Another time I was at the gas station topping off the tank and accidentally shut the drivers side door. This was bad because the door stuck and often you weren't able to get back in at all.
This was also bad because I left the keys in the car and the passenger door was locked.
How was I going to explain being stuck at the gas station?!
Sometimes if you hit the handle just right you could get the door open and I stood there banging on the door and yanking on the handle for about 15 minutes before the door opened. Then I had to rush home and barely made it back in the house before mom pulled in from work.
Oh lordy!

But that still didn't dissuade me and I kept up my secret drives until they didn't have to be secret anymore.
I miss driving fast, windows open with the radio blaring. Well, I don't miss driving fast, I still do that.

Vodka (on the rocks)

2011-07-19T09:01:00.000-04:00

When we were 11 my sister and I each got to travel by ourselves on a plane to see our Aunt and Uncles in St Louis. For a week.
It was a HUGE deal.
When it was my turn I was so excited, not only to be going, but to be traveling...by myself.
It was so grown up!

So I packed my bag and snagged my teddy bear and the book I was reading and boarded the plane. Before lift off the stewardess that was assigned to "watch me" during the flight came over to make sure I was settled ok. It was a mostly empty flight, so I figured she probably didn't have anything else to do anyway.

I was settled in my center seat with Teddy buckled into the seat by the window (he was really bossy and insisted if I really loved him he would get the window seat) and was cracking open my book. I was halfway through it and it was so deliciously creepy.

The stewardess sidled up and asked me how I was. "Fine" I replied, trying to brush her off because I was at a good part of my book and didn't want to be bothered.
"Can I get you something to drink, sweetie?"
"A coke" I replied absentmindedly. I was soooo the proffessional traveler.

But this woman wouldn't go away. She rambled on about flying and how scary but fun it was and was it my first time, was I nervous, who was I going to see, what book was I reading.

Oh! I could show her my book. That usually got adults to shrink away and leave me alone.
So I looked up, met her eyes and slowly closed my book and showed her the cover. It had a terrifying clown on the cover with eyes dark like coal and bright red hair.
I was reading It by Stephen King.
At 11
While flying on a plane by myself.

My plan worked. She stumbled backwards and said she'd get my coke and be right back.
Then, when she returned she tried to engage me again.

Oh what a cute bear! What's his name, how long has been with you?!

I replied that his name was Teddy and I've had him since I was born.
She said, that's adorable. Would Teddy like anything to drink?

I sighed.
I lowered my book slowly and raised my eyes to meet hers.

"Yes, he would just LOVE a vodka. On the rocks of course."

She didn't really come bug me anymore after that.
I also never got that darn vodka on the rocks.

Garbage

2011-07-18T08:56:00.000-04:00

I love to read. I'm currently trying to read 52 books or more this year and have just finished book 21.
I'm sad to report that book 21 was Heaven.
It is a garbage book that I read when I was young. Too young.

I started reading young (a retired English teacher turned children's librarian ruined any chance I had at being illiterate) and advanced quickly.
So much so that by the time I was 10 I was reading well above my age level...mostly adult books.
I started reading Stephen King around 11 and I also found books by VC Andrews. I'm sorry to say that VC Andrews is a darker more incestuous writer and they were WAY beyond what I should have been reading.

But I just kept reading them.
They wouldn't have been so bad had I been older. But they were terrible for someone with an already messed up idea of relationships even at 11-12.

As an adult re-reading my favorite series from her, they're actually quite ridiculous. My mom gave one as a gift to my niece when she was 14, and I promptly followed her up to her room and took it away.

Books like this make it seem like love should be complicated and dramatic, exhausting.
I feel like love is hard (as Liz Lemon said, "Love is weird, and sometimes gross"), but I'm learning that the seedy underbelly of relationships that I assumed was love isn't really. But I'm not sure what to do with that information yet...

Five Minutes: Loss

2011-07-15T12:03:00.000-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

We walked out of the mall and the keys were inside the car. This was before cars were smart enough to not let you lock your keys inside of them. This was also before cell phones.
We waited by the car when mom walked back into the mall to call dad on a payphone. It took a long time and it was quite black out when she returned.
She said dad was on his way, her voice sounded funny.
As we stood next to the car she paused and then said, Ellen died today.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. This idea that she was gone. The idea that I wouldn't be able to talk to her anymore.
In the typical teenage way I decided firmly at that moment that I wouldn't eat cinnamon toast anymore. David Letterman wouldn't be funny again.
I was immediately struck with regret, for not asking her more.

Why didn't she get married?
Why did she dedicate her life to raising and caring for a selfish woman's children?
Was it because of the selfish woman and she knew from the beginning that she would need to protect those children from such a woman as her sister was?
Who did she whisper to when she didn't realize other people were around?
Did she ever regret not learning to drive, not being more independent, not creating a separate identity from her sister?

I still feel the loss. The loss of not asking. The loss of taking her for granted and the loss of not being old enough or mature enough to understand what it was she did for me when I was in that house with those women.

The funeral director for my Gma's funeral said that grief isn't something that is there and then gone. That most of the time grief is a new addition to your life that you simply learn to live beside. There are times it's more acute than others, but it never goes away. This loss.

Done.

Constant Vigilance

2011-07-14T01:34:00.000-04:00

I'm heading into a kitchen remodel and while Pete is talented and gracious enough to do everything he refuses to do the drywall. I can't really blame him, dry wall, finishing it specifically, is the worst.
But that means I have to hire a dry wall contractor.
Needless to say I'm having quite a bit of anxiety about it.

I'm just not comfortable having random men wander in and out of my home without me there. I can't take the time off and yes Pete will be there but it all just leaves me feeling unsafe.

So I try to remain calm and explain as directly as possible my concerns to these contractors and they all act like I'm nuts. Then I try to explain it to some people at work and they also think I'm nuts. Then worse still both groups of people proceed to tell me the most terrifying stories of contractors that go through your things and hide in closets waiting for people to come home.

WHO DOES THAT HELP?
Not this girl.

All of this is just overwhelming and if it weren't for Pete and Dad reminding me what a waste it would be to put so much money into the kitchen without redoing the walls with the sagging seams I would just say screw it and decide to live with my kitchen as is for the rest of my life in this house.

The annoying thing is, that at one point today I actually stopped and wondered if maybe I was crazy. Like actually bat shit crazy insane. Because no one else seemed to be the slightest bit sympathetic about what I was concerned about.
I had to keep talking myself off the ledge and reminding myself that I have every right to advocate for my safety and not be belittled for it.

Now, if only we can convince others that.

Messy Love

2011-07-13T08:26:00.000-04:00

This isn't love, the mess he's left me in.

That's what Harry said about Dumbledore when Hermione was trying to convince him that Dumbledore loved him. (Yes, I'm re-reading the last book in preparation for the movie)
Each time I read/listen to the book this line just jumps out at me.
Because sometimes I have a hard time understanding love.
Is it love even when you don't feel loved?
To what extent should love be something that translates to you?

I mean, I can say I love someone...but if my actions and other words aren't loving then do I really? Vice versa there are people that have said they love me, but I feel like it's just words. Their actions shout at me that I am worthless and beneath them.

The there's the love language conversation.

Of the countless ways we can show love to one another, five key categories, or five love languages, proved to be universal and comprehensive—everyone has a love language, and we all identify primarily with one of the five love languages: Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch

Quality time is huge for me. You can do all sorts of things for me and tell me you love me but when I rank a spot in the way you spend your day I feel loved. So I try to make an effort to spend time with people that I want to know I love them. But what if their love language is something else? Then am I not helping them to see that I love them?
Conversely, I confuse the time people spend with me to be love. Just because they spend time with me doesn't mean they care for me or have my best interests at heart. I've made that mistake more times than I care to admit and it has really jacked up my definition of love.

This all sort of made sense in my head. But I just feel a sense of wonder about this whole love thing. In all aspects of relationships.
We've shown that I'm a black and white girl, and some days the gray fuzziness of love is just a little much for me to wrap my head (and heart) around.

Such a Time as This

2011-07-12T02:26:00.002-04:00

The book of Esther is about this young Jewish woman that marries the Persian King. She was placed in the position at the same time that a man in the court (maybe a prince) was rising to power and was given an unusually large amount of power from the king.
She struggled with the position she was in. She was frightened and overwhelmed at times. But her cousin said to her that she was in a position to save her people. Save the Jews of her time from this man in court that was given so much power.
The 2nd part of chapter 4 verse 14 reads:

...And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this? Esther 4:14

Not that I'm about to marry a king or anything, nor am I about to be able to save an entire race of people either...but the phrase for such a time as this just won't leave my head.

I was talking to the women that are taking over leading Washington Project this fall and while we chatted it got even louder.
So I told them that I believed that God had called them to lead this ministry at such a time as this. Just like he has called me to rest and follow for such a time as this.
God's timing is perfect, even if we don't understand the timing this side of Heaven.

It all sounds so Pollyana-esque I know. Because it certainly doesn't make me feel any better when people die, friendships end/shift/change, months are long and budgets are short.

But I keep hearing this whisper of how all of this is coming together for such a time as this. The excavating of my wounds and the patching of my scars may cause nightmares, but I'm reminded that they are simply the infection of abuse being worked out of my heart.
I go back and forth missing WP so terribly (even though I'm not completely out of it yet) and longing for the time that I'm done completely with it. Because I don't want to miss a thing. I believe so strongly in what WP does and the way that people drift around believing they're invisible and not knowing there is a real God that sees them.

Yet I talk to these women that are transitioning in and I realize that all of this is according to God's timing. These ladies are primed and ready to roll. They are passionate about letting people know about God and caring for them. It's really amazing to see them grow bolder and more confident in their calling and such a pleasure to have been a part of it.

Because God has called me to rest at such a time as this, and I know there is more to come in the future. I need to be primed and ready to run, and I know that rest is a key part of that.

Ten Things: Weekend in Review

2011-07-11T08:33:00.001-04:00

I feel like I had a jam packed weekend. Here are 10 things that happened

Met with the ladies that are transitioning into leading WP without me. Dreaming and giggling with some matter of fact leading sometimes sucks and is hard conversations
Returned the 1st pool because of missing pump (A: I almost wrote pimp which would have changed the entire context of that statement B: I bought a 2nd one the same day as the 1st and was just returning the 1st because it was useless). Had to explain to a flabbergasted customer at Big Lots that people without kids also like to swim. She just didn't get it
Bought 13 gift cards (for WP) to The Rave to give to some McDonald's employees by our church's old building. Used them to thank them for everything they do and invite them to The Rave where we currently meet. Broke The Rave's printers and almost punched a lady in the face who had no personal space common sense. But restrained because I find when buying gift cards to tell people that Jesus loves them you shouldn't also physically assault someone.
Spent 4 hours in the pool Saturday and have the sun burn to prove it.
Discovered that if you can get children to walk slowly in a circle around the inside/outer edge of the pool this will create a "whirlpool" effect that is quite pleasant when floating on a raft.
Painted the rest of my room, which took a ridiculous amount of time.
Ran out of paint and was super thankful that Home Depot was open until 10pm now
Spent 3 hours in the pool giggling and talking with Amber. We both fell off our rafts a ridiculous amount of times. Am now pink on both my front and back which makes everything quite painful.
Convinced Pete to use the moving men discs to move my dressers back into my room. He doesn't recall stubbornly refusing to use them when we moved the furniture out, but it doesn't matter because I do which means I can mock him for it.
Dusted, oiled and re-organized my dressers and changed my sheets. Put my drapes back up and plugged my TV back in. It's a real grown up bedroom again ladies and germs and I slept soundly (and fell asleep promptly) for the first time in a week. I also went to bed at 9. It. Was. Glorious.

Five Minute Friday: Time

2011-07-08T01:16:00.018-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

I am always aware of what time it. ALWAYS.
When I ask you what time it is (with a few exceptions, like when I'm in the pool) I am asking you because I want you to be aware of what time it is too.

Passive Aggressive, probably (and as an aside whenever I need to spell aggressive I do the little cheer in my head "be aggressive b-e aggressive b-e-a-g-g-r-e-s-s-i-v-e so I don't spell it wrong)

But I have this need to be on schedule, this need to know what's going to happen when and how and for how long. It makes me feel safe and more prepared for what's to come.
Last weekend there was a moment in the pool at Jake and Cody's when I felt completely relaxed. Not a care in the world. I have to admit, it felt nice.
But it didn't last.

Even worse I was told in therapy this week that after a lot (A LOT) of work on relationships we are transitioning into working on safety issues. On feeling safe and being safe and learning how to manage the hyper aware state that I can jump into in an instant and stay in for days.

I told her I didn't want to do it.
But apparently it's important so I'm doing it anyway.
Because it's time that I stopped finding my comfort in my hyper aware of time and surroundings and start feeling safe again. It's just scary. Because for any scenario when you tell me why I should be safe in this place or that place I can tell you 5 ways it's not safe. I did it to my therapist last night.
In the face of overwhelming proof, I choose to believe I'm not safe. Because I never feel safe.

But it's time I did.

Done.

P double O L

2011-07-07T01:56:00.001-04:00

Soooo..........I may or may not have bought a pool.

Ok, I did.
Gosh! Drag it out of me why don't you!
Last weekend Pete and I went to Cleveland to see Jake and Cody. They have a smallish pool that is the perfect size for drifting around on rafts.
I had a pool in my back yard growing up and while I always feel like I'm missing the water I didn't quite feel it as acutely as I did when floating on a raft for hours at a time this past weekend.

Then I saw that the pool was on sale at Big Lots for $69.
Then I realized we could shimmy the shed over to the side of the side patio and not have to create a big dirt circle in my yard again.
Then I realized that I would be working extra hard on house projects and would LOVE to have a pool to recuperate in.
Then I realized I'm almost 32 and can do what I damn well please and so I called Pete to meet me at Big Lots and I bought the pool.

Then I had to go to another Big Lots and buy a 2nd pool. (His and Hers pools!). Ok, so the first one had no pump or filter and the 1st Big Lots didn't have anymore so I'll be returning the 1st one and keeping the 2nd one...but I digress.

I'm sort of having a love/hate relationship with the pool right now, but Pete pointed out last night that as soon as it's up and I can float on my raft in the pool I'll drop the hate and only love it.

Advice

2011-07-06T08:27:00.002-04:00

Have you ever noticed how much easier it is to give advice then it is to take it?
To solve the worlds problems before you even peek under the carpet you've been shoving your problems under?

The interesting thing I've noticed about this God character that keeps pursuing me is that when I start cleaning out from under the carpet I've swept all of my ragged edges under my eyes start seeing the ragged edges on others more clearly.
What I mean by that is not that I can see others flaws when I couldn't before, what I mean is I can see them in context.

It doesn't stop the hurt, it doesn't stop the sometimes heart wrenching process of opening myself to a Grace that I am convinced I don't deserve. But it helps me feel less alone.

You're My Candy

2011-07-05T08:22:00.000-04:00

Had a great and relaxing weekend in Cleveland with my boys. There was swimming, sun, relaxing and copious amounts of candy.
More on that later....right now, I have some candy to inhale.

The sugar's only sweetness,
Salt is ocean tears
And you were my only weakness
For years and years and years
You're my little yellow sweetie
You were hiding in a jar
Now my mind is gone completely
Take off the lid and there you are

You're my can-dy
Can-dy

Well the devil, she made sweet candy,
took six days and nights to dream
On the seventh day she rested,
woke up early and made ice cream
Now the devil, she must be a dentist
with deep jawbreaker eyes
Red rope hair, gumdrop lips,
cotton candy thighs

Chocolate lava stole my body
and aftertaste stole my mind
Left me dangling down defenseless
then sweet candy she said goodbye
Now my teeth are worn and useless
My eyes too sunk to see
My tongue swelled up to twice its size
and all I want to do is eat my candy
-Candy Presidents of the United States of America

Five Minute Friday (Monday Edition): Wonder

2011-07-04T01:26:00.033-04:00

Since Friday was the 1st of the month (which is Good Things day!) I'm posting a Five Minute Friday on Monday. Try to keep up will you...

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

Wonder.

Sometimes I just sit back and watch the world around me with wonder. I wonder when it's going to be acceptable to just be honest with each other and ourselves. I wonder if I can maintain all of my bravado and ask the 5 word question I need to ask to that person when I need to ask it.
Because I wonder.

I wonder if they'll tell me the truth
I wonder if they lie if I'll even know it
I wonder why I care so much

Then I remember. Because when I find out that you lie I feel like a fool. Your lying shames me even if I did nothing wrong.
Your underhanded and duplicitous ways confuse and entangle me in a web of deceit I want no part of anymore.

So I wonder if you can stop.
I wonder if you really want to.
I wonder where and when to draw the line in pursuit of this relationship because I already feel scared and unsafe and the relationship hasn't even begun.

But I wonder....where is the grace filled line.
The line where I give you grace and in the calmest and most respectful and straightforward manner tell you that if this doesn't stop I can't continue to build this relationship with you.
I wonder what that means to my other relationships, if they will judge me harshly for setting a boundary and telling you that you cannot cross it or I cannot be in relationship to you.

In theory I know it's healthy. In theory I know it's good. But I wonder what reality will do to that theory and I wonder at my ability to maintain the healthy boundary because if the past is any indication of my future it will be a blurry line that you are fully capable of pushing.

But still I wonder, because I want to try. I want to try to ask you the question and if the answer is yes I want to get up and leave and tell you that I could love you and care for you but there have to be some ground rules or else it's just another uneven relationship with you shaming me with your lies and me saying please ma'am, may I have another.

I feel strong.
But I wonder if I'm strong enough.

Done.

Good Things: June

2011-07-01T02:27:00.026-04:00

June 1 The contractor wasn't done with the bathroom yet so I got an unexpected night of doing nothing at home

June 2 C to the razy customer at work that I got to tell him to move on with his life, that was fun

June 3 Beer and ice cream at family night

June 4 Fun day spent mostly outside in the sun at the zoo and the pool

June 5 Power washing the back fence, pretended it was a machine gun and I was mowing down the enemy (whoever that is)

June 6 Had a blast at a friends daughters graduation party. Yummy food and my face hurt from laughing so much.

June 7 Hair appointment cancelled, but the sarcastically good news means I got to power wash for longer tonight!

June 8 Good therapy session tonight, apparently I'm making big strides!

June 9 Left work early but the reason I was leaving was cancelled so I took a nap instead

June 10 Rolo Mc Flurry!
June 11 Bright red hair!

June 12 Took an unplanned nap sprawled out on the patio (until Pete scared the crap out of me at least)

June 13 Told the leadership team that I'm stepping down from Washington Project. It felt good to get it out in the open, I suck at keeping things under wraps

June 14 Painted the bathroom bright (no really BRIGHT) yellow

June 15 Had a revelation today that made me smile like a chump for about an hour. The repercussions are....interesting to think about.

June 16 Dog sitting means never having to say you're sorry for not doing anything productive in the evenings

June 17 Leisurely morning at the dog sitting house since I didn't work until 10

June 18 Sleeping in!

June 19 Finished Alice, I Have Been and took a nice nap on the sofa

June 20 Alias with the roomie (for the first time in 3 months!) We're almost done with season 4!

June 21 Girlfriends Night Out at Uno's!

June 22 Nice respite therapy session

June 23 I came home from work and SCREAMED and SCREAMED at Pete about work stuff. Then he made me dinner and let me stew on the sofa while we watched Alias

June 24 Alias with Pete

June 25 Happy Birthday, Laine! I love you! (also, Homearama, and picking out kitchen cabinets)

June 26 Dinner at PF Changs for Alexis' birthday Love talking to her about life and how God is moving

June 27 The word flawless was used in the same sentence as my name. So naturally I giggled and blushed. Hearing nice things said about me is really hard, especially since I'm trying to not convince people they're untrue anymore.

June 28 First official Girlfriends Night Out Small Group, yummy food and THIRTEEN ladies connecting and building relationships

June 29 Dreaming and praying about outreach at Four Corners with some ladies that are leading the next iteration of Washington Project.

June 30 Going to Cleveland to see Jake and Cody Eve!

Sing Sing Sing

2011-06-30T02:09:00.000-04:00

I've been watching The Voice and loving it. In the beginning rounds the coaches had celebrity advisers and Blake Sheltons was Reba McEntire. We ALL know how much I love country music and all (insert eye roll here) but that piece of the puzzle is important.

I went to bed one night and had a dream....

I dreamt I was shopping at Macy's (which is odd because I never shop at Macy's except maybe to buy Clinique and even then I break into hives just walking into a department store, I really blame all those shopping trips with mom as an awkward adolescent) and I ran into Reba (which is odd because what is Reba doing shopping at Macy's in Cincinnati? What am I doing there for that matter?!)

As we walked around shopping together (which, WHY after running into her did I start shipping WITH her?) and she was lamenting how exhausted she was but she had this concert later that day.
I benignly comment that I'm sorry and I wish there was something I could do to help (I was thinking coffee) and she said, "Great! I'll just have you perform for me!" (uhhh....)
Then, as if that wasn't strange enough I AGREED.

We head back to her dressing room (which interestingly is just through the back of the Macy's dressing rooms) and she promptly lays down on the sofa and goes to sleep.
Her stylists descend on me and start plucking and primping me (one should never be ambush plucked, even in my subconscious it hurt)
I'm staring down at my clothes and I ask them what I should wear on stage. They say, "Oh, you can just slip into something of Reba's"

I glance at teeny tiny itsy bitsy Reba on the sofa and look at the stylists and say, "You think my thigh is going to fit in any of her clothes?!" The stylist said something about how they're all stretchy (there would need to be A LOT of elastic but, whatever)

After being plucked within an inch of my life they lead me to wardrobe and I stare mouth open at racks and racks of track suits, sweat pants and t-shirts. I spin dramatically around and proclaim, "That is not fancy enough!" and take off at a flat run through the store.

In a scene that can only be from the blockbuster 80s movie Mannequin I start pulling and yanking and trying on clothes from all over Macy's (including oddly enough, the men and children's sections...) and the dream jumps to me stepping on stage in........

The red dress I wore to my senior prom, complete with bee hive french twistish hair.

Then I woke up.

I was a little sad that I couldn't see myself performing songs I didn't even know, but one can't have it all I suppose.

Thanks

2011-06-29T01:45:00.002-04:00

I met the other night with the ladies that are stepping up to lead the next iteration of Washington Project and Ben. As we talked through the transition and some guidelines of what it could/should look like I just sort of sat back and was grateful.
I was so grateful for the opportunity to lead at Four Corners and the way that God showed up throughout the years of Washington Project.
I was grateful for the staff and especially Ben and how they are constantly striving to lead well and allow others to make mistakes (and gracefully recover from them).
I was grateful for the stretching. The sometimes tearing apart of my heart by the people I served and served alongside as I saw just how desperately in need we all are of God's grace and forgiveness in large ways and small.
I was grateful for the moments with people where they realized for the first time that God saw them, really saw them.
For the lady at the car wash that cried because she believed her relationship with her kids was forever broken and we showed up that morning and told her that God loves her so much and cares very much about every single detail of her life.

For the lady at the dry cleaners that wasn't sure her marriage was going to make it and was hiding in the dry cleaners from her husband because she couldn't take one more fight. God set an appointment for Washington Project to show up and tell her that God is with her. That he loves her and is there for her.

For the girl at One Way Farm who made choices with consequences that almost caused her to miss her grandfathers funeral. For the almost year of going and playing silly games and painting nails that led to the moment of being able to tell her about a God that promises us eternity if we follow his Son. For the moment when she asked our regular One Way volunteers to sign her yearbook because she was leaving One Way and wanted to never forget us or the God we were serving ever.

For the couple at the marathon that took some free coffee from us and when we told them it was just a tangible way of saying God loves you and cares about you they cringed a little. But as they walked away realizing there were really no strings attached were heard saying, "that's the kind of God I could believe in, they really didn't try to hit us in the face with the bible".

For so many other moments large and small.

For the moments as a leader when I felt God bringing people in around me to encourage me when I was so defeated and low and I remembered that he cared about me too.

For the moments as a leader when I saw the people on my team light up with the realization that God has called them to such a time as this to lead in such a church as this to proclaim the gospel.

I was just filled with gratitude for it all and a sense of longing for what it to come. Because this chapter is closing, but I know that God is already writing another chapter on my heart and the heart of my awesome church.

I want to thank you
For so many gifts
You gave with love and tenderness
I want to thank you

I want to thank you
For your generosity
The love and the honesty
That you gave me

I want to thank you
Show my gratitude
My love and my respect for you
I want to thank you

I want to...

Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
-Natalie Merchant Kind and Generous

Used

2011-06-28T01:30:00.000-04:00

I never quite know where to draw the line. Between being helpful and being enabling and being used.
Because sometimes it doesn't occur to me that I'm being used until someone else points it out. So does that mean I'm being used?
Does the using occur because of the intentions of the user or the usee?

I just don't know.

All I know is I'm feeling dread about a lot of relationships, even those with healthy functioning people that have proven time and time again they are only interested in a 2 way friendship with no harm to either of us.
So it makes it that much harder when delving into building new relationships to know how much of myself to invest.

Because I want to invest.
As I've wandered around hearing people saying "me too" and wondering to God why no one ever says anything I hear him saying..."then why don't you say something?"
I hear him asking me to go first.

But I also am working on setting healthier boundaries and often even I forget where they are at so how can I hold others to them?

I still feel so unsure of myself, but I am sure that this is the place God has placed me for such a time as this.
I don't know what He'll make out of it...but I know it will be for my good and more importantly His glory.

Taking my ball and going home

2011-06-27T01:08:00.001-04:00

This isn't my first go at therapy. It's just the first time I was willing to engage in the hard stuff and push through the uncomfortable and painful to get far enough in that there was no turning back.

One of the therapist I had was talking to me and I said something about how I needed to just get over whatever it was I wasn't over because it was clearly done. He replied, "If you're not over it it's not done."
I dismissed him naturally because he didn't realize that I was always wrong and always at fault.

While in theory I realize that forgiveness doesn't always mean reconciliation and that it is for sure not always a one time forgive 'em and you're done deal it's the every day living out of that knowing that is so hard some days.
When you realize that someone is never going to do...whatever it is you're wanting them to do, that's when the hard work starts. Because it can be easy to forgive someone when they're shaping up and walking the line you want them to walk.
But when they don't....when the relationship after the forgiveness either does not or can not exist....you're still called to forgive them. Because forgiveness isn't supposed to be conditional.

Can I be honest? I sort of hate that.
I sort of hate that my agenda and my idea of "how it should be" is not the way that it goes and that forgiving and continuing on in a reconciled relationship with a person hurts sometimes and sometimes you're still let down.

But I also know that when I ask God for forgiveness (which feels like an alarmingly high amount thanks to some spiritual temper tantrums of late) his forgiveness is instantaneous. He keeps no record of wrongs and calls me to do the same.
I also hear him asking me how I can love those I need to forgive well.
So I stomp my feet and I whine and cry and ask him why I need to be the one to love them well. They are the ones that hurt me and wronged me.

Then I hear him whisper..."There it is. There's that seed of bitterness I knew you were fostering in your heart. Can I have that please?"

I'm still stuck in that tension, in the temptation to nurse the bitterness and unforgiveness. I'm tempted to just sit down, cross my arms and pout. But I can feel Him pursuing me even when others won't. I can feel Him whispering to me that He's got this, that I don't have to carry it because He will and already is carrying the burden.

I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,
I had hoped you'd see my face,
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over
-Adele Someone Like You

Nothin, I got...nothing

2011-06-23T08:47:00.001-04:00

There is literally nothing to see here :)

See you tomorrow!

One Word: Help - Halfway Point

2011-06-22T01:49:00.065-04:00

At the beginning of the year I picked one word to focus on instead of a resolution.
I decided to ask for help. Even though I hate it and even though asking for it makes me feel weak and vulnerable I decided on help anyway.
Because I was retreating within myself. Slowly but surely I was withdrawing from life and friendships.
Nothing felt safe anymore and I lacked the ability to pull myself out of the hole I was in.
I was ashamed and afraid that asking for help would only give others a platform to reassure me that I in fact meant nothing to them at all.

But I started. I asked friends for help finding a therapist and then I made an appointment and actually went TO the appointment. At first I fought against the validation she gave me when she named the sharp words still sticking like shards out of my heart, but then I realized it was true.

I joined a connecting group at church for the first time in the almost 6 years I've been there. I've found new friendships developing and have observed with wonderment how many nuances there are to forming adult female relationships.

I've shared more of my story in a serious (non-sarcastic) manner with people and have heard them whisper, "me too". I've asked for help by talking about my relational fears and inabilities and asking others what can be done...and then asking them to come alongside me as we do life together.

I'm still not sure where I'm at with relationships in general. I'm still an overly suspicious person and seem to wonder always at the subtext of conversations. But I'm talking about it. I'm asking for help and I'm hearing people I wouldn't have expected step up and say they'll work through it with me.

I'm also hearing from God. I'm hearing him answer my whispers asking for help in the darkest corners of my mind and heart. I hear him steadily and consistently telling me he's still there helping me even when I can't see it through all the tears.
I hear him tell me there is a better way to have relationships (friendship or otherwise) then to give it away in exchange for scraps of affection.
For one of the first time.....I believe him.

I'm enthralled with seeing how the next half of this year of Help will go. I feel so radically different than I did at the beginning of the year, so much more hopeful and grounded then I can remember feeling...ever really.

Thanks for going first, Alece. It helped me be brave and to ask for help when it was the last thing I wanted to do, but the first thing I needed to do.

(also, if you're not reading Alece's blog then you're just missing out on a great read and a wonderful woman who is pursuing the life God is calling her to lead with all it's grit and glory)

You Give Love....A Bad Name

2011-06-21T02:44:00.048-04:00

Back when I was young and had no idea what it meant to be in love my "first love" and I broke up.
I.Was.Devastated

I didn't know what to do. So I packed up my Sony mini boom box and my Bon Jovi Slippery When Wet tape and headed off to my grandparents house for the weekend.
Several crazy things happened that weekend.

1) My Grandfather had recently purchased a little motorized cart to get around on the farm. It had a basket on the back, I presume to keep his guns. I popped some D batteries in the boom box and decided to ride it around the farm lanes while I cried out to God "WHY!? WHY ME! WHY!?!" I was apparently in the sad and on the brink of death stage of grief. Right before I left the house I ran into my Grandmother. This woman rarely had a kind word to say to me and I'm not certain this counts as kind. But as I staggered sniffling towards the stairs in my red Camp Wanake sweatshirt (which will clarify which boyfriend this was for Nicole) and lugging my boom box loaded with the sweet soothing styling of Bon Jovi she stopped me at the top of the stairs. She rested her hand on my shoulder and said, "I know this seems like the end of the world now. But, Bethany, boys are like tissues. You pull one out, blow them, throw them away and then another one pops up!"
I'm fairly certain she was going for a "There's always more fish in the sea" kind of thing, but even at that age I knew what blow them meant and couldn't believe that conversation just happened.

2) I finally make it onto the motorized cart and I proceeded to drive around the farm for (literally) FOUR HOURS playing and rewinding Never Say Good-Bye until I was all cried out. Then, as I transitioned into the anger portion of my break up weekend I switched it to You Give Love A Bad Name and sang it while sobbing quite dramatically at the top of my lungs. The rainbow trout were quite startled when I drove around the pond that day.

3) When Mom came to pick me up she brought Nicole, who has been around for every break up dramatic or otherwise. Nicole brought me a balloon, I can't remember what it said because I let it go outside and well....as it so happens when you do that to something filled with helium it flies away. As Mom chatted with the grown ups I strapped back on that Wanake sweatshirt and we decided to go on our own dual spin on the motorized cart. With me balanced precariously in the basket and Nicole gunning it for all it was worth we set off. As we were driving down the back lane and chattering away about what a jerk ex boyfriend was and how I was soooooo better off without him she got a little distracted and drove into a deep ditch. I mean DEEP. I mean we couldn't get the cart out of the ditch.
Finally one of had the BRILLIANT idea to put the cart in reverse and gun it while also pushing it up the hill. There was no way that plan could fail. So we did, and we each (at different points) almost ran over ourselves. Scraped and at least one of us (ME) bleeding we finally made it up the side of the ditch and carefully rode the cart back to the house. I walked in with my red sweatpants (yes, I was wearing red sweatpants with a red sweatshirt. Isn't it clear now how my milkshakes brought all the boys to the yard?) torn and Betty had shown up. She sneered, "What did you do?!". I just shrugged and said, they were like this when I put them on this morning and quickly moved into the next room to tell mom I was ready to go.

But the good news is, after all of those adventures, I was almost completely over my heartbreak.

Dem Bones

2011-06-20T02:22:00.022-04:00

We had beef ribs on Saturday night. Since they were beef bones we decided to give them to the dogs, Tundra and Faith.

I walked out the door with a plate of bones and they were right up on me begging for them. So I pulled one off the plate for each of them. Tundra took his and as I handed Faith hers he stared hard at it. I could almost see his doggie brain working.
I turned towards their bowls to put the rest of the bones in them while Faith took her bone into the grass and settled down for a nice evening of cleaning and chewing it up. Tundra however immediately dropped the bone I gave him and trotted over to the bowls just sure I was going to put something better in there.
I dropped the bones in and he sniffed and picked one up. He trotted over to his other bone and as I walked back inside I saw that he would chew on one for a minute then see the other one and drop the 1st one to chew on the 2nd one.
Back and forth he went and even went to the bowl for a 3rd bone, surely that one would be the best of them all.

I went inside to tell this funny little story and realized what an analogy to humans it is. How there are some of us that can be content with what we have and others that are constantly striving for what we think is better. Sometimes it is, but sometimes we just flit back and forth between several things and never really allow ourselves to settle in enough to enjoy what's right in front of us.

I don't know where the balance is, but I'm sure trying to figure it out.

Five Minutes: Flirting

2011-06-17T02:35:00.020-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

I'm going to go ahead and tell you that I am rife with awkwardness when it comes to male/female relationships. I tell boys that turtles breath out of their butts, I race to open the door for myself and laugh super loud at inappropriate times.
But my major issue is this:

I can't tell when someone is just being nice and when they are flirting.
When I think someone is flirting people say, "They're just being nice"
When I think someone is just being nice people say, "Oh no, they're flirting with you!"

I just don't know.
But I'm also going to say that there is someone that is being nice to me and I girlishly think he's a little handsome, kind and fun to talk to. I just can't tell if he's being nice or flirting.
I also refuse to do anything about it because so far I'm still holding (mostly) steady in my no dating on purpose rule.
But then again, it's easy to not date when no one is asking you out.

I don't even know that I want anything to happen, I'm just saying...if dude could hold up a sign that says flirting or nice then it would make things a lot less awkward in my head.

For now, I think I'll just chill and enjoy the conversation.

Done

Prayer in the Desert

2011-06-16T02:59:00.004-04:00

(via inCourage)

A friend of mine recently asked me to pray for her. She expressed how she was in a “dry” place. Unlike so many times before, she couldn’t think of a specific thing that I could pray, but she just felt she needed prayer. Her request made me think back on times in my own life when I felt like I was in the desert or a dry place with the Lord.

Webster’s Online Dictionary defines desert as: 1) arid land with usually sparse vegetation; an area of water apparently devoid of life 2) a wild uninhabited and uncultivated tract 3) a desolate or forbidding area

That definition certainly doesn’t make you want to go book an airline ticket and head off to the desert for your next vacation. As Christians, “desert times” can be stressful, scary, make us question our relationship with God and question God Himself.

Today, I want to look at the desert in a different light and give it a new definition. If you search for scriptures throughout the book of Exodus you notice that God called His people to: worship me in the desert (Exodus 7:16), journey into the desert (Exodus 3:18), hold a festival to me in the desert (Exodus 5:1). They looked toward the desert, and there was the glory of the LORD appearing in the cloud (Exodus 16:10).

All of these scriptures point out that God is there in the desert! And if we meet God there with an open mind and a trusting heart we can endure these times. Often, that is easier said than done. At least for me! But, if God is there with us and we believe that He is who is says He is – will can praise Him in that desert place. On the flip side of that, the desert can be all that Webster’s describes if we lose sight of God and start to grumble as the Israelites did on their well know journey through the desert. A trip through the desert with God can provide festival, praise, growth and worship or a trip through the desert without Him can bring thirst, defeat and death.

God speaks to us through prayer, the Bible, the church, others He places in our paths and our circumstances. Let’s not forget the last one. Our circumstances can bring us to that desert place and if we open our heart to the Lord He can fill it with answers and speak to us in ways we wouldn’t hear or understand if we were not in the desert.

I believe during the “dry times” we learn to seek God daily, ask Him questions, get to know Him more intimately, and remember not to take Him for granted. He stretches our faith muscles, convicts our hearts, challenges our trust and just like every good workout leaves us a little sore. But in the long run, we are fit for the next challenge. We are stronger than when we started. We realize even more how much we need Him in our daily lives, how much He has to offer and how much we count on Him.
So, let’s redefine desert.

Desert: 1) vast land with that grows that bread of life; an area filled with the living water 2) a wild and exciting area full of opportunities to gain knowledge and grow closer with our Father in Heaven 3) an intimate and pleasant area

Now that’s better!!!

He split the rocks in the desert and gave them water as abundant as the seas; Psalm 78:15

Wind Chimes

2011-06-15T01:25:00.006-04:00

Wind chimes are at once soothing and relaxing to me while also a trigger for fear
I ran out of gas in the power washer the other day and sat down for just a few minutes on the patio. As I leaned my head back I smiled at the noise of the trees blowing in the wind, the wind chime tinkling and the birds cooing and sighed contentedly.

I drifted off to sleep in the way you only can on a warm summer Sunday afternoon outside. But as I was caught somewhere between awake and asleep the wind chimes started changing. They became ominous. In my head I was moved from the blue chair on my patio to the green swing on the porch of their house. The concrete under my feet changed to painted gray wood weathered by a generation of feet.
I could see myself sleeping with a book on my chest on the swing while it swayed back and forth unaware of the footsteps approaching me.

She walked up to the back of the swing.
She leaned over and with the smell of bitterness rotting on her breath she hissed in my ear, "Bethany".

I startled awake in real life. I looked around and didn't see anyone. I rubbed my eyes reminding myself that I'm not there, and I don't have to go there ever again. I rested my head back against the chair again and immediately fell asleep.

I saw myself. Sitting in the grass under a weeping willow tree. Listening to those same wind chimes and the birds in the early evening cooing and calling each other home. I watched through branches to the ground and the windows older than I as they walked around the house. I felt the breeze lifting the hair off the back of my neck as I shivered, knowing I had to go in soon.

I startled awake as the patio door opened. Shouting out my heart pounded as I realized I was no longer small. I was no longer there. I was no longer powerless or at the mercy of angry women.

Transitioning

2011-06-14T02:24:00.021-04:00

By the end of the summer I'll be transitioning out of leading Washington Project. I told the rest of the leadership team last night and it went well.
There are some excellent women stepping up to lead Washington Project after me. We'll also be re-evaluating the ministry to see what can be improved what stays the same etc.

No drama llama, it's just something that God has shown me is time to move on from.
I'll be taking a break and then serving in some capacity after the first of the year.

In the last few months since going to therapy the junk in my heart has been shifting and working its way out. I think this is a natural progression of how God is re-shaping my heart.

Should be a fun time. Looking at some other things that have been moving closer to front of my mind as well, I'm excited and more emotionally and mentally healthy then I've been in a long time.

Subtext of the Text

2011-06-13T01:02:00.027-04:00

I'm learned in the art of subtext.
To the point of sometimes reading to much into things.
But sometimes words are said in just such a way that I wonder at the meaning beneath them.

So long I've waited with bated breath for words to cut through me and figuring out how to flee when the air crackles with pre-cut tension that I'm not sure how to move through relationships without that fear.

I'm not sure how to believe you when you show me friendship without condition because I know there's condition there somewhere.

So I engage and disengage and try to figure it all out.
I smile and laugh when inside I'm wondering if what you're saying is true or just a plan to lull me into submission for the attack.

I'm wondering if this feeling of subtext is on the way out. Because as I get healthier emotionally and mentally I'm wondering if I will continue to feel stronger and less vulnerable to attack.

I hope so. All this wondering about the subtext of conversations is exhausting.

Five Minutes: One Day

2011-06-10T01:44:00.033-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

I'm a procrastinator. Sometimes I think that's a fancy way to say lazy.
I always think that one day I'll get to this, one day I'll get to that and then next thing you know I have to rush through and do everything at once because of everything I've put off.

I get overwhelmed easily. My house is a hot mess right now because of the bathroom renovation. My bedroom and bathroom stuff is spread all over the house and it's stressing me out. The back fence is being power washed so when it's nice out we're power washing the fence instead of cleaning up the house and putting last minute touches on the bathroom.
So when I walk inside I'm already tired from power washing and working and I just can't deal with picking up and cleaning stuff in the house.

Because it's just to much.
There's just to much stuff sitting out and around and the places they need to go back to aren't ready for them yet so they sit in the middle of the living room or 2nd & 3rd bedroom and annoy the crap out of me.

Emotionally I do the same thing. I let things build because the little things aren't really a big deal until they are, or until they are added to a myriad of other little things and I'm hacked off and pissed or hurt.

There's a lot of emotional chaos going on in my heart right now. I'm making a big change (that we'll talk about later) and also with therapy and working on building intentional and healthy adult female relationships I'm just overwhelmed. I look at it all and I can hardly think of what small step to take next because there is just so much to be done.

But I just try to do it anyway. One little step at a time. Remembering that Rome wasn't built in a day and my heart will certainly not be repaired in one either. I try to remember it took my mind 31 years to get to the jaded and wounded place it is now and it may take me years to repair it.

But I'm trying anyway.

one day, my relationships won’t carry the stain of abandonment. one day, i won’t fear the Beauty inside – one day the healing will be complete and i’ll be able to take these things i carry and see them for what they really are: scars that reveal i survived.
(via: Elora Nicole)

Done.

Black and White Girl

2011-06-09T01:34:00.045-04:00

I believe there is truth.
I have opinions and thoughts that I think are correct and true.

But when I share them, which hasn't happened a lot until recently, I try to say it with grace.
I try not to punch someone in the face with a truth rocket peppered with shame grenades.

I don't understand why people feel the need to belittle others with what they believe is the truth.

I'm not perfect at it.
But I'm trying.

I'm trying to be bolder in sharing the truth as I see it with people and being more open and strong in sharing my thoughts and opinions with others.

But then I also think a lot about what other people see as the truth.
Because there seems to be a lot of technicalities out there.
I confess I've been guilty of it before.

Technically I made 1 phone call so if I say, I called the people from my to do list it can sound like I called ALL of them and technically I'm not responsible for other peoples assumptions, even though I know exactly what they'll assume I'm saying.

It's been said to me many times that I'm hard on people in regards to the truth.
That I'm black and white and people are either liars or they tell the truth. They're either saints or sinners.
I know I am in a lot of things, but I still can't understand why people wonder why I'm concerned about their level of honesty and that the trust I have in them is shaky when they lie.

I try to see it from their point of view. I try to believe that they can compartmentalize and only lie about specific things, but no matter how I try it's very unsettling to me.

So I guess now I'm trying to learn how to be better at giving grace.
Because I believe in a redemptive God that showers us with grace, even me.

I'm trying to learn the nuances of adult relationships and realize that other people don't know some secret relational tricks that I don't. We're all just broken people bumping into other broken people trying to find our way.

I'm also learning that I can be a black and white girl at the exact same time as a gray girl.
It's one of the joys of being a study in contradiction.

Someone told me a lie
Someone looked me in the eye
And said time will ease your pain
But behold, when you fall
It's that same old cannonball
Coming back for your heart again

Cannonball -Brandi Carlile

Dirty and Smiling

2011-06-08T02:58:00.003-04:00

I was talking to a new friend the other night about how much easier it would be to be *this* instead of *that*.

To be filthy instead of just a little muddy

To be completely shattered instead of wounded and limping along

To be scared of the outside but still getting up and leaving your house every morning because what else could you do instead of pulling the covers over your head and drifting into oblivion.

This partial brokenness seems to be caught in a limbo of neither redeemed or cast out.
But I don't really understand why.
Because aren't most people caught in that limbo, just putting on a pretty face and dealing with it secretly?

It seems the more I open my mouth and tell people about my damage the more people I see glance around and whisper, "Me too."

I was mad at first. At this legion of people that just never said anything and left me feeling completely alone and adrift.
But then I realized, I hadn't been saying anything of substance either anyway.
I had said things, but they were sarcastic and couched in the, "Oh, well...everyone has something" language.

Now I'm saying, "I don't understand relationships. I would like to have healthier friendships where I don't always feel so less than. This abuse has affected me in a way that infects every relationship and I am incapable of just getting over it and simply not thinking about it every day."

And I hear the whispers of, "me too"

So, maybe we can stop comparing each others brokenness and just get down to the business of helping them pick up the pieces.

Maybe we can face our own demons and trauma and work through them so we can help others along the path to the person God is making them into.
Maybe we can sit with people that aren't rainbows and sunshine happy all the time and just be with them instead of plying them with platitudes and then urging them to just keep silent because the jagged edges scare you.

I'll go first.

I am not an angry girl
but it seems like I've got everyone fooled
every time I say something they find hard to hear
they chalk it up to my anger
and never to their own fear
and imagine you're a girl
just trying to finally come clean
knowing full well they'd prefer you
were dirty and smiling
Ani DiFranco - Pretty Girl

Jaded

2011-06-07T01:54:00.034-04:00

My immediate response to chipper people is sarcasm and anger
I snarl the left side of my lip and try to figure out what the hell their problem is, who crapped rainbows on their Rice Krispies.

I swing wildly and uncontrollably between moments of heights of Pollyanna optimism and days of snarky judgemental anger.
It's addicting.
This lull of anger and disallusionment.

I don't want to believe when there are possibilities of good things happening because they will probably not and I'll be upset, let down, hurt.

I wonder if anyone really ever gets to do the job they are passionate about.
I doubt they are really passionate about it or if it's all just a front.

Because I don't believe other people, unless they are angry or snarky too. Then I believe every last poisoneous word that drips out of their mouths.

I feel stuck in a rut with glimpses of flat ground, gasping for air and wondering if I'm just meant to be this girl after all.

So tired that I couldn't even sleep
So many secrets I couldn't keep
Promised myself I wouldn't weep
One more promise I couldn't keep

It seems no one can help me now
I'm in too deep
There's no way out
This time I have really led myself astray

Runaway train never going back
Wrong way on a one way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I'm neither here no there

Can you help me remember how to smile
Make it somehow all seem worthwhile
How on earth did I get so jaded
Life's mystery seems so faded
-Soul Asylum Runaway Train

Shattered

2011-06-06T01:46:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I'm afraid it will never be fixed
More often I wonder if there are some things that are just too broken. Too damaged. Too far gone.

My heart aches.
It aches with a desire to make a difference and hold other people's broken pieces and help them see they are special and important.
It aches to feel someone do that for me without me wondering what it is they want me to do for them, because why else would they be kind for me.

I make it through most days.
Most days I can see the big picture and hang in there.
But some days I get lost in the details.
In all the small shards of brokenness that no matter how far we all come will never be able to be glued back into place.

I'm clinging to the idea that the moments which shatter us the most are the ones which shape us the most; God pieces together who He wants us to become (thanks Bob Goff)

Five Minutes: Forgetting

2011-06-03T02:04:00.002-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

Go.

I remember the oddest things. I remember that when I cracked my chin open in kindergarten that Nathan Mestrey tripped me with the television cord and I was wearing my favorite purple shirt with a bow on the front and that I ruined it because I pulled it off while rushing down the hallway with Mrs. Nye with blood gushing out of my face.
I remember all sorts of details that are useless and unimportant.

Lately in therapy I've been asked to write completely sensory details of instances of abuse or trauma that I've pushed down all these years. She asked me to write about the colors, textures, the smells and everything down to the smallest detail like the wallpaper or the color of the carpet.
I tried really hard to do it but I kept cracking jokes.
After I read it aloud to her she noted that I use the sarcasm as a buffer between me and the trauma.

Um...duh lady.

So I wrote about another occasion. The trigger situation that sent me spiraling back down and drove me to therapy. The straw that broke the camels back as it were.

But this time I just wrote. I wrote like I write here. With the tears pouring from my fingertips without worrying about the sensory part of it. Ten handwritten pages later I found how hurt I still was and how much that wound is still raw even as I'm working through it still. How much easier it is to be mad or hurt about this then about the wounds that were created before I had any say in what my life looked like.

As I read it aloud in the office I heard that even though it still hurts I'm seeing the pattern and ties that connect the trauma I've been sarcastically keeping at bay to the last year of my life.

Because even though I have a great memory I'd forgotten how deeply the cuts run and how pervasive they are because I'd buried them under stories told in just such a way covered with decades of sarcasm.

Done.

Bitter and Sweet

2011-06-02T01:06:00.022-04:00

Who would have known, how bittersweet this would taste
This righting of wrongs
This standing up of things fallen down

Who could have known the decisions that would be made to survive would be the decisions killing so many years later

My mouth has been flooded with words unspoken for so long my lips have forgotten how to form the syllables
But I speak all the same

Haltingly

Embarrassed

Ashamed

Fearful

I speak out of the deep darkness that was consuming me and the fear that it was all true after all

I taste the salty tears on my lips as I part them to say to you that I need you to love me even when I reject any offering of love you try to give me

I bite down on the bitter and angry tongue that would often rather cut you to the quick then taste the disappointment of plans cancelled and hearts broken from abandonment

I kneel obediently

Waiting

Waiting

Waiting

I clasp my hands together

Repentantly

Patiently

Hopefully

I taste the bitter

Knowing the sweet will come

Good Things: May

2011-06-01T02:36:00.014-04:00

May 1 Fun morning with WP and a lovely afternoon of Netflix and Hulu on the sofa

May 2 Made a HUGE life changing decision. Scary, needed, and well received by lovely friends.

May 3 Lovely girl time with Bobbie talking over pedicures. Love her so much.

May 4 Put the ball in motion for a monthly Girlfriends Night Out after talking to some lovely women who all feel the same disconnect I've been feeling

May 5 Family night, where Matthew gave me the finger guns and wink

May 6 I wore a dress and heels and felt pretty

May 7 Nicole Graduated! For hopefully the last time!

May 8 Day 3 of the dress weekend. Church and lunch with Mom and Dad

May 9 Dogsitting, started a book on the Gospel of Ruth I've been wanting to get to for awhile

May 10 Night at home, no plans and yummy pork chops on the grill thanks to Pete!

May 11 Spontaneous dinner and ice cream at The Dip with roomie, Sharen and Matthew. Matthew ran up to me afterwards and gave me a big hug and whispered "I have a nice time at dinner with you, Aunt Bethany"

May 12 Happy Birthday, Sharen! Red Robin and ice cream cake

May 13 Looooong day but headed north again for Nicole's graduation party

May 14 Full day of prepping for, hanging out/working at and cleaning up from Nicole's graduation party. But so fun to celebrate all her hard work with her!

May 15 Became slightly manic when thinking about everything there is to do in the coming week. Bathroom demo starting and lots to do on top of that.

May 16 Full day, but I survived in mostly a good mood

May 17 First Girlfriends Night Out with Sharen and some other ladies from church. God's been putting the intentional development of adult female relationships on my heart a lot lately and this was a big first step

May 18 Lunch with a friend where when answering the "what's new with you" question I realized that every aspect of my life is under construction/renovation right now. It's interesting to see the changes happening and wonder where God's taking it all

May 19 Got to knock down some dry wall while pretending some customers faces were on it, it felt nice

May 20 Lots of laughing at Geek Games followed by a late night run to Waffle House

May 21 Our Harry Potter Rapture party went of without any of us going to heaven or being left behind. Also, butter beer and strong martini's by Pete

May 22 Finished up the bathroom demo and watched the random May hail storm

May 23 Let the master bath remodel begin!

May 24 Costco-ing after work

May 25 Had some kind things said to me by someone I really admire. And I didn't even interrupt and try to tell him all the ways he was wrong!

May 26 Bought some Klondike bars, ate one. That was pretty awesome

May 27 Straight home from work! Which was good because there is A LOT of cleaning and laundry to do.

May 28 Special day with Shelby means dresses and massages

May 29 Cookout with some fun people

May 30 Hard conversations, but totally worth it.

May 31 I have to be honest, after not posting for a month I was a little relieved to know I was going to start sharing again tomorrow, which is today, which is June 1st, which is...well you get it.

Break it Down

2011-05-03T02:38:00.024-04:00

I feel completely off balance. Wondering who exactly I am and what it all means. I suspect that since I loathe the status quo and doing things just because it's expected of me I waited to have my existential crisis when I was 31 instead of 30.

I feel like I've never really had a firm grasp on who I am, especially when I look at it in contrast with who I perceive people think I should be.
I feel like I've not really pushed to find out either. Because I suspected (and have been told) that the core of me was just bad and who wants to face that about themselves.

One of the hardest things for me to accept and process about therapy and the fact that I'm sharing the process with people both here and in actual real life conversations is the responses. The person I see in the mirror and the person they say they see when they see me is so different. The perceptions are so far apart.

And I'm just so tired.
So tired of fighting and tired of digging and tired of trying to convince myself I'm not bad and that I am in fact a lovable and cherished person.
I'm tired of knowing I have to focus on getting healthy and feeling crushed by guilt that I'm thinking too much about myself and turning inward instead of outward.
I'm tired of trying to find the balance and make the right and healthy choices and wading through the millions of choices that could be both or neither on any given day.

I want to be able to wrap this up nicely for you, because that's what I think good girls should do.
But I don't know how.
It scares me a lot.
Yet, I also think the cracks and chips in my "everything's ok, nothing to see here" facade are helping a little. Like a lanced wound they're letting the pressure release slowly and surely.
I'm terrified I'm letting to much ugly hang out and you'll all realize just what a bad girl I am and I'm also surprised when you don't recoil from my crazy.

All that to say, I'm taking a break. From blogging and probably lightening the social media posts (but not stopping those all together).
I'll be back in June, but I'm taking the rest of May off. There is a lot going on and I'm trying to decide if a decision I'm wanting to make is a result of a healthy shift in priorities or a result of withdraw and the desire to flee relationships. I need to quiet some voices in my head and focus on the still small voice that has been lost in the banshee yell of the abusive words of my past.

I'm going to try to find what girl God has made me to be and remember that He doesn't make mistakes and that I'm not the bad girl I've been convinced I am.

If she forgets what she is capable of, I'll remind her. When she looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize who she sees, I'll describe her in detail until she remembers, and when she doubts she can be the person she wants to be, I won't.
via (in)courage

Good Things: April

2011-05-02T01:27:00.021-04:00

April 1 Shopping most of the day with mom and the girls, bought a super cute new purse (yes, another one)

April 2 More shopping, shopping shopping. I'll be ok if I never shop again for the near future

April 3 Great morning at church followed by an afternoon of solitude while reading and napping on the couch with the windows open. AMAZING after several days of constant running and being around lots of people

April 4 Fun dinner with friends that are staying with me for awhile. Lots of hilarious conversation and surprisingly serious stuff too.

April 5 Washington Project meeting then a yummy dinner and good conversation with Claire

April 6 Nice night playing video games with a friend

April 7 First night dog sitting, at least this time there was no dead bird or urine in my purse

April 8 Geek Games and giggles

April 9 Spontaneous shopping day (4th in a row) with some geek game girls

April 10 Planted some annuals and made garden decisions all on my own

April 11 Finished a good book and started watching the 1st season of Friends on dvd and chortled a lot

April 12 Yummy dinner and made it through a contractor estimate walk through of my house without crying or breaking into hives.

April 13 Fun dinner with Justin, Bobbie and rommie followed by an early night at the dogsitting house

April 14 Family fun night at Sharen's for the first time in a long time (thanks to dogsitting). Playing outside and amazing backyard olympics on the SLIDE (slide slide slide) OF (of of of) DESTINY (destiny destiny destiny)

April 15 Straight home from work and no other plans for the first time in MONTH. Amazeballs

April 16 Kirsten Ariel Matala's special day. Pottery! Vegetarian food! 16 year old driving!

April 17 Ikea cabinet shopping, and I didn't even cry!

April 18 30 Rock on the couch while I folded a gajillion sheets (ok, 8 sets) because I haven't done laundry in so long

April 19 Snuggle time with Matthew when he whispered, "I just love you, ok"

April 20 I had a hard night at therapy, but dinner was ready and Pete cleaned up and everything while I sulked on the sofa

April 21 Hour long 30 Rock!

April 22 1/2 day at work

April 23 Yummy yummy Easter dinner at Sharen's house followed by clean sheet night

April 24 Wore a bright green dress and heels to church, didn't fall over once

April 25 Stuffed peppers for dinner. Oh.yes.

April 26 Happy Birthday, Pete!

April 27 Good conversation with a friend, realizing that we're all just as messed up as each other.

April 28 Early night, which I so needed

April 29 Woke up just in time to see Kate arrive at the Abbey (Abby?) My secret intrigue with the Royal Wedding has been revealed.

April 30 Waking up to no alarm in my own bed is amazeballs

Five Minutes: Dresses

2011-04-29T02:19:00.017-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.
I've been on a dress buying kick lately. Specifically maxi dresses. The jersey material that is usually long and flowy with an empire waist.
I even bought heels to go with the dresses (ok, so they're like stacked heely things...there's a specific work but I don't know it...I want to say ramp, but I know that's not right)

Then when I wear them I feel all pretty and girly and frilly. People compliment me and tell me I look cute...or they balk at the shock of seeing my legs.

I also have been on a clothes buying spree. Soft fabrics and layers of color, different necklines and even some fancy pants jewelry.

I've been wearing makeup (ok, foundation and mascara at least) every day and touching up with powder throughout the day.

But the truth is, I still feel mostly like a fraud.
People tell me I look pretty and I'm fairly certain they're just telling me that because they don't know what else to say.
I see myself in the mirror or my reflection in a mirror and I pause wondering what they saw that was even remotely beautiful.

It's terrible.
But I also am recognizing the patterns and trying to push through them. Believing people despite my every instinct screaming that they are just being nice or that they are buttering me up for something they need or want.

Either way, I'm looking distinctly more feminine than I have in a long time.

And scene.

Conflict

2011-04-28T02:08:00.001-04:00

Conflict and I are not getting along lately.
I'm trying to retire from being the peacekeeper and involving myself in conflict that isn't mine to be involved in but it's really hard. It's really hard.

It makes me scared to be around conflict that I can't help resolve in some way, but I know it will also make me anxious and super stressed to insert myself into conflict I shouldn't be in.

It's a catch 22 really.

Mostly I'm just trying to find a balance so I can still have human interaction without always being a grumpy wench about things.

It's hard, and I'm really tired a lot with all the hard stuff that's happening.

Crooked

2011-04-27T03:04:00.007-04:00

The mysteries you live with, as a child. Never solved, never resolved. Utterly trivial, petty. Like a tiny pebble in your shoe, that causes you to walk crookedly.
- 'Little Bird of Heaven' Joyce Carol Oates

Chosen

2011-04-26T02:55:00.053-04:00

Therapy was really hard last week.
I had been agitated since my previous session because of things being stirred up and talked about that I had learned to not speak about for decades and there were also technical issues that ate up the first 15 minutes of my session (although the therapist did stay 15 minutes over because she said it was the office staff's issue and she wasn't going to take my time away from me because of their communication issues)

I talked a bit about the first few times I allowed myself to share with people things that were said and things that happened around me as a kid. The first time I shared them seriously and not in a joking around sarcastic kind of way.
I talked about how the people were angry that I never told them. How the conversation turned into me reassuring them that it was ok and it was fine and no big deal. How the conversation turned into how we could protect this other person from finding out because they were to fragile to bear the brunt of this information.

As I talked about it I became very upset and essentially whimpered, "I just wish I was chosen"
Because I understand through my adult eyes what these grown ups meant when they got mad that I didn't tell them. I see their baggage and brokenness and can sympathize with their thought process. But even though I was mostly an adult when these conversations happened I was still seeing things through the lens of this abuse and the kid brain I experienced it through, so I just felt....un-chosen.

Back in September when I returned to that town and broke again from the weight of the words layered on my kid heart I also felt un-chosen. I had a handful of interactions in the same period of time where things, events and other people (however appropriate or inappropriate) were ranked higher than I and I wondered if I would ever be the one chosen.

Because I just want to be chosen. I want to feel prioritized and cared for and that I might come in at least 2nd or 3rd for somethings.
I want to not feel like that's a ridiculously petulant thing to want.

Even before I could finish this thought process and even louder as I drove home I heard a whisper that I was chosen.
That I was chosen before I was even born, before my parents, their parents and their parents were born. Before the very sands of time.
I was chosen as the daughter of a King that sent his Son to die on a Cross for me. That even if it was just me He would have Saved He would have done it.

Because I'm a damaged and broken person sometimes that doesn't feel like enough. Sometimes I forget that it's true even if it doesn't feel like enough.

Cries in the desert, my child I hear them
Tears in the valley, my lovely I count them
You're so precious, you were on my mind as I died

Here I am so close to you
Know my voice, I'll never leave you
For I have loved you since before
The sands of time were made

I love you still and always will
You're chosen as mine
-Hillsong "Chosen as Mine"

Back Room

2011-04-25T02:40:00.001-04:00

I hated going there.
Nothing ever really happened, in the really happened sense.

It just felt wrong.

A bird nose and magnifying glasses
Hands that lingered a little higher and longer than needed when helping me stamp in time.
Hugs that made me establish no touching days with people that gave appropriate length hugs with hands clasping and clutching my upper back instead of my upper ass

Pulling my hair back and moving a thumb down the back of my neck slowly
Resting an arm around a waist while discussing practice charts
Whispering, "You're so special" in a tone that made me wish and hope to be never be anything special at all

A little window and a waiting chair just outside the door may have kept the hands technically within bounds but they were out of bounds all the same.

You were trusted enough for a change of venue to your home
With no small window, no waiting chair

Jumpy and scared I hid behind insolence and refusal to sit anywhere near you until she returned
It was the last time
I got in trouble for being so rude
But it was worth every harsh word to never return to your side again

Five Minutes: Denise

2011-04-22T02:52:00.000-04:00

Each year around this time my thoughts turn more and more towards Denise.
I think about her a lot on other days but this time is usually the most filled with her memory.

Easter is late again this year, just like it was 11 years ago.
Easter Sunday falls on the anniversary of her death.
It's a hard thing really, this juxtaposition of death with a holiday that represents resurrection and victory over death.

But this year I'm holding tight to that victory over death and the promise of the cross. That one day I'll see Denise again and she will be whole and complete in Christ.

Because really, what else can I do?

Justify, my love

2011-04-21T01:28:00.026-04:00

Sometimes I have these memories.
I'm not entirely certain if they're actually true.
I could probably ask people that I seemingly share the memories with but I've done that before, and they don't remember it that way. For a girl that thinks she's always wrong that means I am remembering things wrong.
Sometimes the memories I have aren't of conversations but of feelings.
Feelings that things were off, that they just weren't right.

People have asked me lately what the cause of my distress is, they ask me what the traumatic situation was that I'm recovering from.
I feel like I have to justify it.
Like my hurt and my inability to move past things without professional help isn't valid because it's not (insert non-melodramatic suburban white girl problem here)

I'm trying not to justify it. I'm trying to simply own my share in the trauma and figure out how to healthily move past the experiences once and for all so I can get back to a fully functioning life.

I know that's not what people are trying to do, but they manage to do it anyway.
So I'm going to stop justifying and just respond to people when they say things like that and ask them to help, instead of retreating within my shame and believing I'm all wrong.

Somehow, Like A Tree

2011-04-20T02:14:00.014-04:00

I have been rapidly and painfully peeling back layer after layer of hurt and baggage from my heart lately. Most days I wonder if I'll ever reach the bottom of all this scar tissue.

I don't talk about it a lot but when I do I feel all sweaty and shaky about it, because I'm always a little afraid that the people I talk to will secretly agree with those abusive words.

So I make a joke.

Because honestly when I speak these things out they sound so absolutely ridiculous.
It sounds so absolutely ridiculous to me that adults that are supposed to take care of kids and protect them are so cold and calloused.

Sometimes people joke back, sometimes they ask me why I just can't move on, sometimes they tell me I just need to not think about it.
I know they mean well because I can see relationships through mostly grown up eyes now.
I can even see these hateful women through mostly grown up eyes. I understand the concept of generational sin and abuse cycles and I understand that hurt people hurt people.

But I still feel it all through a kids heart.

When kids don't understand what's happening they don't ask for clarification, often they don't even know they can. So they fill in the blanks with what they think might be happening which is often much scarier than the truth. They come up with views of the world that are untrue and severely blurred by the interactions they have with adults they should be able to trust.

Sometimes when kids grow up they can change their minds (literally change their brains). Other times the lenses they built their view of world through adhere in what seems to be a permanent way and they continue to see the world as a scary and unsafe place filled with words that slice and dice.

It has taken a lot of work for me to realize that the way I see the world has been deeply affected by these adults, that the way I see myself has been molded by the words they cut me with.

Now it's taking even more work to rebuild the lens through which I view the world and myself. There are a lot of days I forget and lapse into the comfort of drive thru's and self-loathing.

But I'm working on it, even when I feel mired in the bitter unfairness of it all.

Sometimes I can't move my feet it seems
As if I'm stuck in the ground somehow like a tree
As if I can't even breathe
Oh, and my screams come whispering out

As if nobody can even see me
Like a ghost, sometimes I can't see myself
- "If I Had it All" DMB

Prompted Posts: Sunshine

2011-04-19T03:30:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I just don't know what to write about, or I know what to write about I just don't know how to write about it because it feels to big and to raw.
So This Blog Post Has Been Brought To You By: Pete. Like Five Minute Fridays but ten minutes on a writing prompt of choice. I was going to have all the prompts be by Pete, but I'm sorry to say that Pete's prompt was Sunshine. This might be his first and last spotlight as a prompter.

Ok, GO
Sunshine

I don't know about you guys, but I get the winter blahs a lot. Couple that with my recent therapeutic foray and diagnosis and I have a very hard time getting motivated to do anything or even get out of bed.
Plus, that darn therapist keeps forcing me to "talk it through" and "work it out" and I feel pretty mired in darkness.

Now that it's April and the sun is shining on a regular basis I can feel a little better more often.
It's hard to remember in the midst of the winter, in the midst of the darkness that there will ever be light again.(insert dramatic back of the hand to the forehead gesture :here: )

I'm heading into a house remodel. This means hours wandering around home improvement places and sobbing into the buckets of spackle on aisle nine. A few days ago Pete and I were running around Ikea and working on cabinet and counter top estimates (my life is One Life to Live sexy. Please don't murder me and steal the awesomeness that is "the things I get excited about now"). We got turned around in the showroom and I sighed and turned to Pete saying, "We've reached the point in Ikea where we're to far in to turn back and yet I feel like we're never going to reach the checkout lane."

That's how I feel about sunshine sometimes. During the winter or in the midst of a deep period of darkness I feel so far in I can't see the light from where I came and I feel like I'm never going to get through it.
I think about this quite often, like tonight for example, and think to myself...self, REMEMBER this. Remember that there is sunshine and light and you just have to hang on long enough to get back to it.

But I never do. I always forget.
Maybe I should write it on a post it or paint it onto the new walls I'm putting up in the master bath.

And....scene.

God loves you and your Big Mac

2011-04-18T03:36:00.017-04:00

I was listening to the radio this morning. A local morning show takes a random question each day and answers it themselves as well as taking calls from listeners who answer the question.
The question today was, "What is an act of kindness you have done that no one knows about?"

Lots of people called in and told stories about things they have done and several about receiving random acts of kindness from others.
The one lady said she was in line at McDonald's and it was taking forever. When she finally got up to the window the worker said the lady in front of her paid and wanted to tell her that God loves her.

The female on the show immediately said, "Oh yeah, she probably saw you getting annoyed with the wait and was sticking it to you with "God LOOOOOOVES you" right?"

The answer was no but all the same it made me really sad that there are so many people out there that think the only reason someone would do something nice and wrap it in God loves you is to spite and "stick it to" you.

Five Minutes: Fun Facts

2011-04-15T04:52:00.028-04:00

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.

The outfit that I am wearing to work today (Wednesday 5/13) is not working for me at all. The thin sweatery throw isn't sitting deep enough on my arms and my bra straps keep poking out. It's awkward.

I just finished listening to Bossypants by Tina Fey. She read it. Now I speak like her on the phone with customers. It is awesome.

Often when I drive places that are confusing to get to or have difficult parking situations I just turn around and go back. The exception to this rule is when I'm meeting people, which I am heading to do now. Then I feel bad but get all sorts of cranky pants about the parking situation and grump all the way up to the very minute I greet my friends. When I greet them I morph into the, "C'mon Bethany. Put on your game face and get along to get along already". I resent that face a lot but feel incapable of doing anything else without becoming a social pariah.

I have two monitors at work now. This means I am able to work in our system while also seeing what's ~~happening on the Internet~~ popping up in my work email so I can jump on it immediately. But seriously, it's pretty great. I was campaigning for it for a long time and now it's here. All my professional goals have now been reached. Thank you and good day.

I SAID GOOD DAY!

Also, I am having work done at my house. Prepare yourself for the onslaught of updates and various "Bethany is freaking out and needs to "verbally" process the terror that is having men (even men I know haven't murdered anyone else) in my house without me there".

I mean, ALL killers weren't killers until they murdered someone right?

See also, the last sentence is not helping my fear of killers.

And....scene.

Have a good weekend!

"Crazy" doesn't mean "Always wrong"

2011-04-14T01:49:00.001-04:00

"The thing is, I have every right to advocate for my safety and not be belittled for it"

That's what I actually said out loud to someone.
Apparently therapy is working, even if only in bits and pieces at a time.